The BLOOD Saga, Series 1: Night
by Dion Mystique
Summary: A vampire's love for a human girl sparks a bloody revolution. 500 years later, the dhampir descendant of Lord Frederic and Lady Maribel is confronted by the bias coven that slew his vampire forefather - some being those he's known for years. Wade/OC
1. Prologue: The Lovers

_**BLOOD/Night**_

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><p><em><strong>(Opening Theme – "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<strong>_

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><p><em><strong>Prologue – <strong>**The Lovers**_

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><p><em>500 years ago, two hearts joined under the coldness of the moonlit sky.<em>

_It was a time of blood and betrayal, war and conquest at every turn. The countries were at each other's throats, freely flaunting their egos for the sake of world domination. Love only existed at the end of one's blade, where it severed like melted margarine from the dying bodies of the common man._

_There were those who took pleasure in seeing others perish; those that prowled the night, picking up the scraps left behind on the bloodied battlefields of the continents._

_Their existence struck fear into those who've stared into their burning, carnivorous eyes… The people called them…vampires. Yes, the fabled children of the night of whom all in our present age believe to be characters created by campfire tales. They once roamed the darkness freely, and they were far more fearsome than the great minds of today believe them to be._

_Why did they suddenly disappear?_

_Where have they gone?_

_What power could've erased them for the vision of the public eye?_

_Those questions and more run through the minds of those that believe; those that tread on dangerous grounds, looking into an existence that should be left alone in darkness… I am one of those people – a fool that grew up fascinated by the beautiful beasts that take human form. From the re-mastered tales of Count Dracula to the innovative dark love stories that drives humanity wild with fandemonium…I love them all._

_What drove me to love the human beast was the stories that my grandfather told me, whilst bouncing merrily on his knee… One that I could never forget, "The Romance of the Tainted Rose"._

_A young townswoman arrived home late from an outing with the neighbors' children, daintily garbed in her best attire. The moon stood like a silver dollar amidst the night sky, beaming a cold glow upon her buxom frame. The nocturnal symphony haunted her, playing its tune with every step she took._

"_The moon's high, miss", a hungry hiss mocked her with laughter._

"_Who's there?" she jumped._

"_Say your right words, and I will give you leave. Speak wrongly, and you will die."_

"_What do you want?" the young lady turns on her heel, her eyes greeting a foreboding figure of death._

"_What do I want, you ask?"_

"_I will have you know that I am the daughter of a noble! My father will not tolerate such behavior!"_

"_Where you're going, my dear…there will be no need for such arrogance."_

_The cold figure parts his jaws, revealing hungry canines the size of nine-inch nails. The very sight of the nightwalker's stare freezes the young lady in her place, having her drop the parasol given to her on her 17__th__ birthday onto the tiled streets… She watches her executioner embrace her curvy frame, being unable to move a single muscle from where she stands._

"_What…have you done to me?" she shudders in fear._

"_You're now mine to control, dear. You belong to me…and I enjoy abusing my playthings."_

"_No…release me, I beg of you!"_

"_Your kind refuses we, the children of the night, quarter in this world. To what extent does your arrogance delve, child? I come to you to play, yet you turn me away with harsh words? Threaten me with tattling? Hogwash! I shall take your life just as your kind has done to many of my own!"_

_The words that the bloodsucker chastened the young lady with were cold and ruthless, and somewhat human… She heard the pain in the beast's voice sounding intensively._

"_Why are you so angry with me?" weeps the young lady._

"_Shut your mouth…and die to me this evening."_

_His voice has lowered, but his eyes still burn with a vampire's bloodlust… His hungry jaws close in on her, being teased by the taste of blood dripping from his fangs._

"_How lowly of you, my friend", a voice strikes the bloodsucker with a cold chill of fear, before unbearable pain explodes from his heart. The bloodsucker looks down, seeing an arm has pierced through his chest. "When you meet the Reaper a second time, tell him he needs to learn his children some manners. Tis such a shame that vampires prey upon women whom have yet to reach adulthood… Oh well, I grow tired of you. Goodnight, you nauseating, perverse bastard!"_

_The man's bloodied right arm is pulled out of the bloodsucker's chest, allowing the lifeless corpse to paint the streets with a ghastly shade of crimson… The young lady looks up to see a handsome gentleman of the evening tasting the plasma left behind on his hand._

"_Mmm…this one was fond of those with the purest blood. Virgins…those who have yet to be touched… They make the best meal for my kind, but I…have other uses for them."_

_His eyes meet the young lady's frame, but do not burn like those of the murdered bloodsucker._

_The stranger's eyes seem gentle…almost loving._

"_Who…are you, stranger?" questions the curious nobleman's daughter._

"_Lord Frederic von Alucard, at your service milady", the gentleman of the night bows respectfully to the lady of the upper class, showing her much respect. "I do apologize for that fool's behavior. You'd expect nightwalkers to behave with more…elegance than that."_

"_I thank you for your assistance, sir", the young lady fetches her parasol from the ground, turning her back to the vampire who saved her life. "You've done right by me, sir. I shall see to it that my family returns the favor."_

"_Before you go…" the words of the gentle-eyed vampire forbids her from moving forward. "…I would ask you to the ball, but I'm not sure if you'd wish to grace the floors with one such as I."_

"_You've shown me great fortune this evening, sir. I shall meet you there in my best dress."_

"_Good, good… Our next meeting shall be a joyous occasion."_

"_Indeed, good sir", the nobleman's daughter looks to the gentleman, but sees that he's nowhere in sight. She looks everywhere; to the left, to the right, the man is nowhere in sight. "Where the bloody hell did he run off to? Or…was that a dream?"_

_The dead corpse before her speaks of this night as being far from a dream._

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><p><em>She returned home in awe of the evening she's had. Her dreams were light and merry, despite the horrific events that fatedly befell her… The smell of blood was still fresh in her senses, but left when the morning sun graced the skies. Her entire day…was filled with visions of the night before.<em>

_The neighbors' children socialized with her as always, showing the nobleman's daughter a great respect._

"_Lady Maribel, your skin is quite fair and soft", admires her lady friends._

"_Yes, I would so love to know your secret."_

"_Oh please, Lady Maribel, you must tell me the name of your tailor."_

"_Girls, girls, please… I do enjoy you singing me praises, but give it a rest", she would modestly giggle._

_Everything seemed normal to her, and the events of the preceding night escaped her memory. To the nobleman's daughter, Lady Maribel Newman, her heart wished the nightmarish events of late to be nothing more than a dream. Still, she could not live without the fear of being attacked once again._

"_Lord Frederic" she whispered to herself._

"_Did you say something, Lady Maribel?" questions her butler._

"_No, Charles…not a thing."_

"_Lady Maribel, you've not been yourself lately. Is something troubling you?"_

"_Only your constantly nagging, old man."_

"_Oh, such abrupt defense is not of a lovely maiden's character", he chuckles, pinching her cheeks._

"_Charles, enough with your mollycoddling of my image!" she drones in a blush, hugging the man that has become like her grandfather. "I swear, old man…life would be dreadful without you."_

"_I believe the same, my dear. I hope you enjoy your evening in the company of your associates."_

"_Thank you, Charles", she picks up her parasol and ventures into the crowded evening streets._

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><p><em>It took a few minute's gaiting to reach the palace, where she dined and dance with the highest of the town's aristocracy. The youth, the seasoned, the young and the old…all graced the polished floors of the famed Rutherford Chateau in celebration of the royal family's 23<em>_rd__ anniversary. Lady Maribel's beauty surprised even the queen herself, who paid respect to the young lady's elegant appearance._

"_You're the spitting image of your mother, dear. I knew her quite well in our youth."_

"_I'm honored, your majesty", bows the nobleman's daughter._

"_Please, do join me for a stroll."_

"_Yes, my queen."_

_The Queen of Rutherford and the nobleman's daughter walked the palace, arriving to a balcony on the outskirts of the chateau – a place where the moon beamed vibrantly with a silver glow. Lady Maribel's breath is taken away by the image of such a grand and heavenly body._

"_I've never seen the moon shine so brightly before in all my life", awes the nobleman's daughter._

"_This is where I come to think of days of the past…before I plunged into death."_

"_Plunged into death? What do you mean by that?"_

"_Do you know why my king and I never grace the daylight?" the queen looks upon the image of the nobleman's daughter, striking her with burning eyes. Lady Maribel has fallen into a trap, and her life is but a kiss's distance from embracing the white light of the hereafter. "My lover saw his death because of you, Daughter of Sir William! I have called you here to finish what he started…by taking your life!"_

"_Oh Lord in Heaven, and I didn't even get to dance with you yet!" drones the irritated voice of the vampire that saved her life, Lord Frederic von Alucard. The Queen of Rutherford gazes into her bedroom chamber, shocked to see the gentle-eyed human beast trespassing on restricted ground. "Your majesty, I would ask that you release that young lady…for it is I that you should kill."_

"_Frederic, what do you mean by that?"_

"_I was the one who killed your lover, you unfaithful, bloodthirsty wench! To take it out on a poor, defenseless human girl…I'd expect more from a lady of such high standards."_

"_You killed him? It was you? And you dare to set foot in my home?"_

_Lord Frederic takes a few steps forward into the moonlight, and stands face-to-face with the unfaithful vampire queen. Lady Maribel hides behind the distinguished vampire nobleman, shielding herself of the queen's murderous wrath._

"_Queen Katherine, Daughter of King Edward, Descendant of the Master himself…would you give this young lady leave?" the gentleman of the night shows no animosity towards the vampire queen, showing her nothing but respect. Queen Katherine doesn't know how to react to such a mode of kindness. "She meant no harm… I was the one who slew Thaddeus, not her. I believe it to be retribution for our king, whom knew my father and my father's father. To what victory does infidelity lead to, your majesty?"_

"_Do not question me, Frederic!" the queen has grown tired of the vampire nobleman's concerns. She turns on her heel, shadowing her bloody tears from the man that slew her lover. "It was at best an impulse that I could not control… He wooed me, showed me the world – something that my husband never did for me. His death drew me mad with anger, for I'd lost those pleasures…and I blamed an innocent girl for it… Maribel, Daughter of Lady Miriam, would you find the kindness in your heart to forgive me?"_

"_Without hesitation, my queen", the nobleman's daughter bows before the vampire queen, receiving the blessing of the queen's embrace. "I would never wish to hurt you in anyway, Katherine. My mother was your friend, and I wish to always respect that…for you are my godmother."_

"_Oh…foolish me…" the queen takes the kindness of her human goddaughter to heart._

_She did not wish to dance nor dine after this, instead choosing to return home...in the company of the gentleman vampire, Lord Frederic. They talked, found common ground with each other, and learned of the other's interesting life. Lady Maribel found Lord Frederic to be one that she could call "friend" and mean every letter of the word… Their nightly meetings increased, sparking the concern of her family and her associates._

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><p>"<em>What is with these nightly outings?" questions her father, having her seated on the living room sofa.<em>

"_Father, I've met a friend."_

"_A friend, you say? Does this friend know the rules about nightly outings in this family? No more than two a week and that is final Maribel! How many times must I tell you this?"_

"_Father, please, he's a good man. He did save me from sudden death–"_

"_Sudden death?" her father outrages, turning on his heel in anger. "And you failed to inform me of this? What do you wish, an early grave for me?"_

"_Father, please, your weak heart…" Lady Maribel helps her ill father to a chair, nursing him back to a calm with her gentle words. "…I know that you wish me well and alive, but I'm all right. Fortune favored me that evening, and I do believe that I've found the man that I'm fated to be with. I wish you well, father; nothing more, nothing less… Father, I died to him just recently…I'm with child."_

"_You're with child at such a young age?" the nobleman looks into his daughter's eyes, seeing a gentle twinkle and an equally beautiful glow upon her fair skin. Lady Maribel is happy – she is to be a mother soon, and her fetus is barely a few days old. "Maribel, I wish to meet the man that blessed my child with his seed."_

"_As you wish, father."_

"_Forgive me for upsetting you in your time of nursing, my dear."_

"_Forgotten, father…water under the bridge."_

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><p><em>News of Lord Frederic's joining with a human girl reached the ears of the king, Henry of Aldington.<em>

_The very act in itself is blasphemy amongst the races, and is considered the highest of sin against the natural order of life… Life and death cannot coexist; therefore, those who break this law are considered heretics – Lord Frederic being the heresiarch of such behavior._

"_The king wishes you dead, my friend", reports a fellow bloodsucker to the vampire nobleman, hovering upon the wind before Frederic's bedroom window._

"_Well, if it isn't the Irishman – Father Paddington O'Shay", recognizes the vampire nobleman, allowing the priest of the Hierarchy of the Moon to enter into his chambers. The Irish vampire sets foot on the flooring of the chamber, turning on his heel to see his friend closing his window. "I've heard of the king's anger, my friend. Did he send you here to relieve me of my inkling of life?"_

"_Not at all, fella. I came here of my own free will."_

"_For what purpose, Paddy? Holding some unveiled grudge against me…because I took a dip in the waters of transgression? Afraid of the spawning of a half-breed?"_

"_Far from them, my boy", the vampire priest rests upon his friend's study chair, pulling his hood back to reveal a head of fiery hair. "I've been a member of the radicals for over 200 years. The Infinity sent me here to deliver a message of alliance on your behalf."_

"_Infinity? You're affiliated with those murderers?"_

"_Not murderers, Fred – saviors that have pledged a revolt against the Church. We see no wrong in the two races joining, and we praise your efforts to show humanity that we are far from the nightmares and tales that they've grown to fear… People like Thaddeus, whom you dropped with your bare hands, are the epitome of those silly stories – ruthless, cold-blooded, scandalous, and shameful. Your liberating of that young girl sparked the admiration of many of our kind, placing hope of reclaiming a hint of humanity in the hearts of the masses."_

_Lord Frederic finds humor in all of this praise, tittering with wholesome delight._

"_Who knew one night of pleasure could go such a long way?" giggles the vampire nobleman._

"_What of the little lassie?"_

"_Maribel is in her fourth month. I met her father not too long ago. Good man he is – welcomed me with open arms, proud just to be a grandfather."_

"_When's the wedding, my friend?"_

"_Twenty moons from now", smiles the nobleman, staring out into the gentle glow of the heavens._

"_That'd be the anniversary of your former wife's death. Why have a joining on such a tender day?"_

"_She'd want it that way", the nobleman turns his gentle eyes to his good friend. "I know you can understand this, Paddington… Gertrude was a good woman of eternal beauty, and it was her wish that I unite the races to break down the wall of lies between us. There are bad bloodsuckers, but there are also good ones – like you and I…and even our queen, Katherine of Rutherford. I shall marry this human girl not because of obligation, but because I've fallen in love with her. My mind, body and soul belong to her – a gift that I wish her to have forevermore… That is why I wish you at my side on that fateful day, my friend."_

"_You wish me to be your man of honor?"_

"_A holy man and a dear friend… No one could ever take your place."_

"_I'll have one of my men pastor your wedding", the vampire priest stands to his feet, hooding himself to conceal his face from the outside world. Father Paddington approaches the window, opening it to greet the night air. "I'll be there… I wouldn't miss this occasion for the world. May God be with you, my friend."_

_Father Paddington leaped into the nocturnal sea, his silhouette gracing the moonlight with mystery and majesty. Lord Frederic's heart has fallen into a vast ocean of love, and has somehow regained the humanity that he lost many ages ago. Just the uttering of Lady Maribel's name fills him with joy… To be with her is to be at peace with the world, and that is why she carries his child. In the blessed name of God, he wishes his blood to be carried throughout the generations in the pursuit to finally unite the races._

_The nightmare must end…but a nightmare always has its beginning._

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><p>"<em>Lord Frederic von Alucard, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"<em>

_All other questions seemed null and void… He wishes to honor and cherish her for all eternity. He wishes to do right by her, never letting her down or allowing her to go astray. In sickness and in health, he will be there by her side as a God-given lover and protector. There exists no in-between, there exists no doubt – this is what he wants more than life itself._

"_I do", he humbly answers._

"_Lady Maribel Newman, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedding husband?"_

_The same goes for the lovely nobleman's daughter… She wishes to honor and cherish him for all eternity. She wishes to do right by him, obeying his word and will as the mother of his children – the love of his life. In sickness and in health, she will be there by his side as a God-given lover and supporter. There exists no in-between, there exists no doubt – that is her heart's greatest desire. To live a life with the father of her unborn child… It is a dream worth living for the rest of her mortal days._

"_I do", she answers, looking into her fiancé's gentle eyes._

"_Aah!" a woman's shriek upsets the entire ceremony._

_The joining lovers look behind them, seeing their parties in peril! Bloodsucker assassins from the Church have surfaced, and are attacking the people – both human and vampire, not sparing a single person in sight._

"_What is this hypocrisy–?" outrages the pastor, before his life is taken by a bloodthirsty set of claws._

"_Aah!" the bride shrieks in fear, being escorted out of the chapel by her fiancé and the best man._

"_Seize the heretic!" commands the leader of the vampire assailants._

"_Seize the heretic!" cheers the other attackers._

_Lord Frederic and Father Paddington help the nursing Lady Maribel into their wedding carriage, where the expecting mother meets the her godmother, Katherine of Rutherford._

"_Your majesty? You're away from your castle?"_

"_Calm yourself, child", the loving godmother eases the young lady, looking out at the holy man and the nobleman. "Paddington, Frederic, we will meet you at the ship within the hour. Make sure to chase those fools off. The baby needs a father, and it would be nice if his godfather were around as well."_

"_Stay your heart at ease, my queen", valiantly wishes the holy man._

"_These barbarians are no match for men of our expertise", agrees the nobleman, gently caressing his lover's cheek. He speaks lovingly to Lady Maribel, placing calmness in her heart. "Do wait for me, dear. I will be with you in no time."_

"_Return to me, my love."_

"_As you wish, Maribel… Be off now."_

_The queen nods her head to her driver, triggering the gaiting of the stallions._

_The queen's carriage is carried off into the distance, escaping the forthcoming massacre… Lord Frederic and Father Paddington turn on their heels, staring into the many eyes of the hateful bloodsuckers of the Church. They are soon placed in a closed-off space, being surrounded by a horde of stigma and bias._

"_Who would've guessed – a holy man accompanying a heretic?" teases one of the assailants._

"_God did not place us on this earth to hate, but to love", the holy man sports his religious wisdom with a straight face, signifying brutal force if attacked. "Be away with you, lest you wish to meet God early…but, in your case, the flames of Hell await you."_

"_Your sharp tongue won't save you now, holy man. You and the heretic will die… And then, we will pursue and slaughter the queen, leaving only the human girl and the unborn abomination."_

"_Who are you?" questions the nobleman of the sharp-tongued clergyman._

"_My name is Father Christian White – the one that the people of the Church call 'White Album'."_

"_White Album, Chanter of Elegies?" fascinates the nobleman, seeing the proof in the apparition conjuring of the vampire clergyman. Lord Frederic is honored to be in the midst of such a high-ranked member of the Church. "I see… The rumors of you are true. You are a man skilled in necromancy, but you forget one thing…"_

"_What is that, heretic?"_

"…_The dead cannot be killed by ghosts", with those words, the nobleman darts forward and thrashes the Chanter of Elegies in the core of his stomach with a brutal right upper!_

"_Such power…" fascinates the clergyman in fear, being rocketed away into the foundation of the chapel._

_White Album's body crashes through the stone walling, as if it was bulldozed by a machine of the modern age or a legendary titan of the olden days… The fellow assailants of the incapacitated White Album shudder in fear of the nobleman's unforgiving fist, suddenly remembering how their fellow bloodsucker was killed._

"_You'd do yourself good by leaving this place", the gentle eyes of the nobleman and the holy man burn with the hunger for blood. Still, despite the fact that their commander has fallen, the thought of running away would greatly shame the Church. The bloodsuckers attack, stirring the excitement of the two rebels. "You are all fools! Perish, all of you!"_

"_Lord, forgive us for what we're about to do!" the holy man excites, ripping his claws through the body of a single bloodsucker. He pierces a crucifix upon his chest with his left index finger, honoring the fallen body of the assailant. "May God see you in the afterlife, my foolish friend."_

_The battle wages on for several minutes, painting the streets before the church with the blood of the cowardly clergymen… White Album somehow awakens from his unconscious state, only to find the aftermath of a massacre. Lord Frederic and Father Paddington stand before the injured Chanter of Elegies with stone-cold eyes._

"_February 22__nd__, 1511 – seventeen men of the Church of the Red Moon have fallen in the defense of a cowardly, genocidal king who wishes to have the races at war for all eternity", angrily announces the holy man, mortified by the actions of the Church. "One of the tenets of the Church is, "Let all be showered with favor amidst the eyes of God", for that alone labels us as brothers and sisters… The Church in itself is a massive hypocrite, and thus holds no power over the people. I can see why Katherine so easily found another, though he was no better than the man she called 'husband'. You may go on believing in your twisted ideals, for a fool shall always be a fool. I do not blame you, Chanter of Elegies, for your ignorance… I blame the Church, and that is why I have resigned my rights as a clergyman to join the ranks of a greater cause."_

"_You dare to betray the Church?" angers the clergyman, receiving a hiss of anger that sends him back into a mod of respect. "…You…won't get away with this!"_

"_Get away with what? Freedom? Peace? Tranquility? You speak nonsense, Father Sebastian!"_

"_I speak the truth! Humans are meant to be served as food to us – not to procreate an abominated race!"_

"_And it is that foolish talk that will pay our race an early extinction!" the holy man's truthful words silence the harsh tongue of the murderous clergyman. "Chanter of Elegies, we bid you farewell. A life of peace is all that we ask… Why jeopardize the life of a child that has yet to see its parents' face? Ask yourself that."_

"_May your life have good fortune, Father", with the departing words of the nobleman, the vampire rebels walk away from the incapacitated Chanter of Elegies, leaving him with his dignity._

_A grudge was born on that night…one that will haunt the bloodline of the Von Alucard-Newman Family for ages to come. I do not remember the rest of the story, but I seem to remember at least that much. The only thing I know is that Lord Frederic ended up being killed… Still, I don't quite remember how and why it happened._

_My grandfather did say that it was for reasons besides the nobleman's heresy._

_There was something cold and sinister happening in the Church at the time. I've researched many books about the story, and never once found a single page that surpassed that large excerpt… It was as if the Churches of Rutherford rid the world of the truth, hiding it somewhere in a secreted record._

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><p>"So, what do you guys think of my story?"<p>

"Stu, I _hate_ the person who broke it off so soon!" my friends merrily giggle about the notion.

"Yes, I agree with that. My grandfather was a man of mystery, so his tales were always foreboding and enigmatic. The Romance of the Tainted Rose, strangely named but still impactful, is one of the _oldest_ tales of Rutherford, England. I take pride in knowing my country has such mysteries under their coat."

"So, Stu…" my lover's curiosity grasps my attention.

"What is it, Sweets?"

"…Do you _actually_ think vampires are real?"

"Expect the unexpected – that's what I say. You never know _what_ could be hiding in the bushes. Why, I've a mind to say that there could be a bloodsucker amidst us right now."

"Okay, enough campfire tales", Nattie rises from her spot before the flame, stretching her drowsiness into a rough yawn. "I'm going to sleep. Coming to bed, love?"

"I'm right behind you", TJ joins his lovely lady, wishing Damien and I a good night's rest.

"Sweets…"

"What is it, Daddy?"

"We're all alone now – just you and me", I cradle against his finely curved frame, taking him in for a warm kiss. My boy came to me but a few months ago, and we've been climbing the ranks of the WWE ever since. We fell in love during those precious moments, and our relationship is public amongst our co-workers. The fans…not so much. "Mmm, your lips always get me going… Care to roll around a little?"

"Daddy, I'm not in the mood right now."

"Not in the mood, you say?" I giggle, tasting his sweet brown sugar skin.

"Daddy, you're going to leave a mark on me. That won't look good on national television."

"_Let them see and know the truth", my persistence makes him blush and giggle._

Everything seems so grand in my life…

…One could ask for nothing better. My career is booming, I've someone that loves me and has like goals, and I've friends that support me. Save the rough-necked ginger that stayed behind, my circle of loved ones spans the countries. Many adoring fans cheer me on, though they know little about me.

_It makes you wonder – Why the false affection from these so-called loyal followers?_

We take to the affection with the utmost of regards, standing to give them a great show. It's rare that we ever meet their needs – selfish desires that come forth en masse. The very foundation of the business was built on a desire rooted in selfishness, and then blossomed into something that overflows with an opposing motive.

What was about to happen to me would open my eyes to the word "selfish", and would plunge me into the very depths of despair… I would soon learn the truth behind the fabled story, and why the rest of the story was never told to those outside of the Church.

It's safe to say this… _Tonight will be the last good memory that I'll have to remember._

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><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme – "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>**

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><p><strong><em>(Up Next: Chapter 1 – Opened Eyes)<em>**


	2. Chapter 1: Opened Eyes

_**BLOOD/Night**_

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><p><em><strong>(Opening Theme - "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<strong>_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1 - Opened Eyes<strong>_

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><p><em>I wake up in a cold sweat, terrified by what my visions have shown me.<em>

It's odd – I haven't been able to sleep soundly since we left Lake Willington's campsite. The nightmares that I've been having are nothing short from repetitive and annoying, driving me mad with each time I close my eyes to the world. I grow increasingly disgusted with myself, waking my lover from slumber with a fit of worry.

_"Stuart, having another nightmare?"_

_"I'm afraid so, love."_

_"Is it about that man, again?"_

_"Nothing's different, Sweets…" I wipe the sweat from my forehead, feeling like I've just sprinted the entire course of the Nile River. "…How many times must I take a shower this evening?"_

_"As many times as you'd like, Daddy."_

I took a shower twice since I've gone to bed in this insufferable roach motel.

God, curse the man who chose this place as a resting spot on our way to Rutherford…

_…Oh, wait – that was me._

Well, then I take it back, dear Lord… The last thing I need is more stress in my life. I ask, can you spare an ugly mug like me the extra burdens?

_Oh Lord! It's 5:56 AM already?_

Damien gets out of bed, exposing the plump little arse that I've grown to adore… Mercy, put those things against a wall and they'll leave lipstick marks. _Ha!_ He'd kill me if he heard that – me and my naughty little jokes!

"_Daddy_, stare any harder and your pretty little eyes will fall out", he teases me by shaking his cheeks to an unorthodox rhythm. "I'd have to wring your neck if I stepped on one, at least leave it a little red."

_"Which one?"_

"Which one what?"

_"Which neck? The one that turns and bends, or the one that turns, bends and squirts?"_

He shoots me a look through the hotel room's mirror that could _burn_ a hole through a steel wall. His little grin signals that he's humored, which is good on my part. One thing about the cutie – he's an animal in the bed, a saint in public, and a psychotic bitch in the midst of a fray. I suffered a punch to the gut on our first date – my mistake mentioning his girlish figure.

My abdomen still lives in fear of those fierce knuckles of his. Then again, I _let_ him hit me… My mistake.

"No need in fixing the bed, love", I hop from under the covers, undressing myself of my boxers. I'm harder than a brick in the midst of a sandbox. I haven't seen my cock throb this much since…8 hours ago.

_"Did you get a woody, Stuart?"_

"My soldier's pretty much at attention – don't know why."

_"Your body's weird, no offense", he dips and brings his arse up with a mesmerizing bounce._

"Well, _there's_ a reason to get a woody", I giggle, examining his rippling hind parts.

_"At least you have a reason now, love."_

"Why are you so fascinated with your mane?" he takes pride in that mass of silky, black hair. I'm stupid to question him about it, being that I take pleasure in running my fingers through it when I'm balls-deep inside of him. "I must report that you make the DIVAS jealous, keeping it so well in-tact and clean."

_"Let the snotty little broads look. Love the girls, but they need to back off with the envious remarks. I've even noticed Nattie's becoming a bit discourteous."_

"Oh, she's just having problems with TJ and–", _oops_ – shouldn't have said that.

"Problems with TJ?" he moves away from the mirror and begins searching through his suitcase.

_"Um…yes… She expects that he's cheating on her."_

"Cheating? On her? Seriously?"

"Is it so hard to believe?" I titter, expecting a smart remark.

_"Like hell it is! Nattie would break his neck off and use it as a backscratcher if it was true. You should know that from when we wrestled in FCW – how she slapped the taste our of Kiley's mouth for rudely complementing her stink-toned laughter."_

_The story behind that epic slap is nothing short of hilarious._

Natalie and Theodore were going through a little separation over a mediocre argument dealing with toilet paper. A few of the other Superstars noticed TJ walking around as if he was lashed with a cat o' nine tails. It was Nattie's doing – she brought a non-name brand of non-quilted toilet paper to get back at him.

_One rubbing of the insufferable paper and his arse was redder than a blushing apple._

Nattie joked about it to a couple of the developmental DIVAS, sounding loudly about it with her raspy laughter. And that is when Kevin decided to stick his massively pin-headed ass in the situation.

_"Why do you laugh like that?"_

_"I don't know. Why is your dick so small?"_

_"Because I'm staring at you, Marmaduke", it was funny how he referenced Brad Anderson's comic strip character, especially when looking at Nattie's stink face. The DIVAS hollered in laughter. "Why not get throat surgery? You're calling the toads from down the street."_

_"BITCH!" the slap that Nattie gave him sounded throughout Tampa, Florida, and she angrily stormed off._

If there's one thing I learned that night, it's this: Never, even – in your entire life – talk about Natalie's voice. She'll leave you numb in the gums for days… Poor Kevin – he couldn't even speak that night.

Still, he deserved it. A _real_ gentleman never insults another with childish comments, and he doesn't bring up meaningless things – like the way a person's voice sounds. It was every blue moon that he got laid, for the DIVAS lost a little respect for him afterwards.

* * *

><p><em>The shower feels nice this time… My body is mesmerized by the warm jets.<em>

I lean against the shower wall, holding myself up with my hands…allowing the waters to trail down my naked frame. There was always something erotic about showers, at least to me… Taking them gets me in the mood, but Damien's not in here with me right now. He'd _surely_ be in trouble if he were standing next to me.

_I'd own those pleasure cakes of his if that were the case._

Looking at the shower floor, I notice that they're traces of red flowing down into the drain.

_("What the hell is this?") I look up, not seeing anything leaking from the ceiling. I look down, still seeing traces of red flowing into the drain… And then, the traces disappear. ("My word! Was that…blood?")_

Thinking about it, that strange red substance also carried a smell… It was fresh, almost beautifully fragrant. I've never smelled something like that before – _something that smelled like the essence of life escaping my grasp_.

_("It's back… Is this a hallucination?")_

The red plasma has come back, but it has no place of origin. I'm surely not bleeding, there isn't a single gash on my body… I wish that someone would explain to me what's going on.

**_"Stuart…"_**_ a mysterious Scottish accent speaks to me from out of nowhere._

_"Who's there?"_

**_"Stuart… may your eyes be opened to the truth."_**

_"The truth? Truth about what?"_

**_"…Who you really are. What you really are."_**

_"Make sense, will you?" I pull the shower curtain back just a bit, only to see the closed off bathroom space. No one is in here but me, and there aren't any P.A. systems in this room. "Where the hell are you?"_

**_"I'm speaking to you using my power of existence. All children of the night are gifted with it and, since you are of vampire lineage, you too are gifted with a power of existence – one that you have yet to discover."_**

_The power of existence – a fabled magic used by the holy men of the Church of the Red Moon?_

_"What kind of nonsense is this? Am I going mad?"_

**_"No, but you don't want to make your lover worry, so shut your trap and listen to me."_**

_"Alright… go on", he's right about that. Damien's a worry-wart, and I wouldn't want to get him started. Knowing him, he'd contact the company psychiatrist in a heartbeat._

_The faceless stranger continues to tell me something that sets me in a state of confusion._

**_"500 years ago, the vampire nobleman known as Lord Frederic von Alucard loved Lady Maribel, a rich man's offspring…and a human. The romance brought forth a new life – a half-bred dhampir boy named Christopher. The clergymen of the Church of the Red Moon, the vampire king, Henry of Aldington, and the Pope Leonard de Bleus were driven mad – fearing the intertwining of the races would jeopardize their food supply."_**

_"Why would they feel that way?"_

**_"The hunt, Stuart – the food chain was thrown off its course. If humans and vampires were to mix and mingle, well… let's just say that the bloodsuckers were looking at the picture to come in the long run. The races wouldn't find need to kill each other off anymore, and the bloodshed would end. Lord Frederic, because he loved the human girl, was put to death after a 20 month chase across the borders of Europe. In order to save his wife and his 1-year-old son, he sacrificed his immortal life to allow them to cross the ocean on the queen's boat. They came here, to America, in order to start a new life."_**

_"Let's try to make this story short, shall we?"_

**_"Shut up and listen. Maybe you'll learn something besides tapping your lover's arse."_**

_"Fine, fine – yap away, you smart little wanker."_

**_"Like I was about to say – Maribel and Baby Christopher grew up in America, and learned the ways of the Americans. After another 37 years, Christopher was left without his mother, who died of unknown causes. Now a full grown dhampir, Christopher aged gracefully and lived 50 years before he found his wife, Lucille Crawford. Christopher changed his last named to 'Bennett' in order to keep himself secure from the Church, who had since been searching for the escaped party. For several generations, the Bennett name was passed down through the blood that created you – the last of the dhampir race. Stuart, what I'm trying to tell you is this… You and everything that you 'think' you are is nothing more than a veil to cover the truth."_**

_I've always remembered myself to be slightly different from others._

_I'm fascinated by horror stories, tales of unexplained death and find myself heating up a bowl of popcorn to view such programming. Call me psychotic, but I'm fascinated with the afterlife, and vampires are the epitome of undead beauty – carnivorous, yet striking beasts that take human form… I didn't really believe the faceless stranger at the time, trying to coax myself into thinking that the happening was nothing more than a hallucination._

_"Sorry, stranger…but I shall take you as nothing more than a hallucination."_

**_"Don't want to open your eyes, eh? How can you explain the blood that constantly flows down the drain? That ain't no damn hallucination, kid – that's your power of existence."_**

_Blood… is my power of existence?_

**_"The blood that courses through your veins has fully matured, Stuart. You'll start to notice strange things happening to you – you'll get unexplained visions, feel as strong as a hundred battalions of soldiers, your sense of smell will become sharper than a canine's, and many other things. The dhampir blood inside of you can be silent no longer, especially when the Church is practically up your asshole."_**

_"If what you say is true, how will I know a person of the Church?"_

**_"A white hood or a red cross and moon pendant – those are the people of the Church of the Red Moon. Watch out for them, Stuart. The lives of innocents will be in danger in the days to come, including your precious little 'Sweets'. If you think his fists hurt, well…you haven't felt an arm piercing through your heart. It 'kills' in more ways than one, my friend… I must go now, but I'll have 'a few watchful eyes' on your tail."_**

_"Who are you, stranger?"_

**_"Don't worry, Stuart… You'll find out soon enough. Until we meet, may God be with you."_**

_The last of my body wash is rinsed from my frame. Still, the smell of blood has not left my senses._

* * *

><p>Damien and I left with the rest of our travelling party at precisely 6:58 AM.<p>

We caught the first flight to Europe, beginning another overseas tour. Our first stop – Dublin, Ireland. A certain little ginger was _thrilled_ about returning to his homeland territory.

_"When we get back to Ire, ya want to get wasted, fella?"_

_"Stephen, the last time I shared a few drinks with you, you streaked across the street singing Irish folk songs like a madman. No thanks."_

_"You act like your mom's breathing down your neck", he teases with a serpentine smile. "Why not live a little?"_

_"I've 'lived' long enough."_

_"Ok, who's giving the pipe – you or your sweet little number?"_

_"What are you implying, you rude little wanker?"_

_"Who's the bitch – you or Day-Day?"_

_"That's none of your business, mayonnaise and ketchup", I sharply retort, pulling a veil over his arrogance._

_"Oh, fuck you!"_

_"Sorry, I'm not one to contract fleas", he shoots me a fierce ogle. "Yeah, that shut you up."_

Stephen and I are good friends. The only reason he didn't join us on our trip to Lake Willington the other night is because he hadn't a partner to bring with him. I asked him to bring along one of the DIVAS, but he lightly turned down the offer… I understand – him not wanting to be the fifth wheel.

_What's the point of brining a partner along without "benefits"?_

Still, the night wasn't the same without him. Stephen can tell some pretty damn good campfire tales.

"What's got you so uptight this morning, Stu?" he shows his concern towards my neurotic mood.

_"It's best left alone."_

"Don't give me that 'stink-faced' attitude of yours. What's wrong with you, fella?"

_"…It's best left alone, Stephen", I calmly reiterate, burying my head in a newspaper._

He pulls the newspaper down and shoots me the "fierce blue-eyed stare" – the one thing that crawls underneath my skin with _every_ _exasperating_ _second_ it's given to me. It's like staring into the cold eyes of a great white shark, before its jaws rip you to shreds… It's not something to be fear, but one look from this pushy bastard and you'd think you were neck-deep in sea water.

_"For the love of God, would you stop staring at me?"_

"Talk, now", he demands.

_"I tell you, you wouldn't believe me."_

"I've heard almost every story known to mankind. Try me."

What I was about to tell him would _begin_ the nightmare.

_"Stephen…do you believe vampires to be real?"_

_"Is this another of your campfire tales?"_

_"No, I'm being serious… Do you believe vampires to be real?"_

_"Sure, but only in movies and written on paper", he giggles for a fleeting second, realizing that my facial expressions are as solid as stone. When I look like this, as if I'm angry about something, the situation is of the utmost importance to me. Stephen quickly catches on. "You're really serious about this, aren't ya?"_

_"…Have you ever smelled blood…and its fragrance was sweet to you?"_

Stephen doesn't know how to take such a question – to fear it or to laugh it off.

To be asked such a thing… No normal human being could say "yes" to that. If one were to say "yes", they'd be considered "crazy" or "a potential cannibal". It's either those two options, or a person in the line of forensics – they tend to smell all kinds of things when dealing with dead bodies.

Stephen answers with the obvious, "No, I haven't. It all smells foul to me."

_"I've smelled fragrant blood for the past few hours, and I've been mentally visited by a faceless stranger. He told me things that have me second-guessing myself… Remember the tale of the Romance of the Tainted Rose?"_

"Yeah, the one about the vampire knocking up the human chick. Sent all the bloodsuckers bat-shit crazy with prejudice, and they killed the vampire-fella for it. Their half-bred son survived his parents, changed his surname and the legacy of the dhampir became a household legend. I've heard it a thousand times."

_"That voice… he told me that I'm a descendant of Lord Frederic", my words send the ginger into a state of confusion, and he begins questioning if I'm all right or not. "You may not believe me now, Steve…but you soon will, for the Church is after me. I may be crazy for believing in the words of a voice that I heard inside of my head; however, the things that I've seen – no normal man could comprehend them."_

A burning sensation pinches the back of my neck, and I look over my shoulder to see one of my co-workers eyeing me down… From the looks of it, I've somehow ensnared Raj. He's looking at me as if I've robbed him of something precious.

"Have a problem, Dhesi?" he doesn't answer me back, only beaming me an amused leer.

"What's _his_ problem?" Stephen arches his eyebrow.

"It's like having a staring contest with a basset hound", my sarcasm tickles the ginger just a tad bit, as I take a sip from my cup of Joe.

"No, he looks more like a bulimic bulldog", I damn near choke on my coffee in laughter.

_"What the fuck are you trying to do, kill me?" I giggle, wiping my drink from my chin._

Raj's changing facial expression gives Stephen the signal that he didn't quite take to the ginger's commentary. If anything, that Punjabi-Canadian bastard is probably the _rudest_ person on this plane. He disrespects everyone, calling them vulgar names like "peasant" and "ingrate". He throws around his marriage like a rock on a sling, yet finds pleasure in flirting with _every_ skirt that passes him by. Raj gives proper gentleman a bad name.

_He's wearing a red cross and moon pendant around his neck… Raj is one of them – a clergyman of the Church of the Red Moon._

"Mr. Farrelly, I deserve an apology for what you just said to me", indirectly demands the bull-faced wrestler. Stephen pays him no attention. Raj stands to his feet, about to cause a scene. "Did you hear me? I _demanded_ an apology for what you said."

_"Shut up, Dhesi. It's not like you don't deserve it. You can run about calling me all kinds of names, but no – let you be the butt of the joke and you toss your tampons out the window in a hissy fit."_

It took everything in the passengers' power to not laugh at that.

_"Are you trying to call me a woman?" his voice is closer, but I didn't hear him move. I look over my shoulder, and he's staring down at me with a venomous smirk. "Mr. Bennett, you should teach your friend some manners. That was quite rude of him, calling me those horrible names."_

"Hey, hey now! Don't put me in this – I'm innocent!"

_"Do you really think that, Mr. Bennett – knowing what kind of blood runs through your veins?"_

That voice wasn't kidding – the Church is practically riding my arse like a cowboy.

_"I don't know what you're talking about, Raj. Away with you, now. You're making a scene."_

"You know…I could kill you right here and now, upset everyone and not give a damn if they called the police or not", he whispers into my ear, sniffing my skin afterwards. "…I smell it – the lifeblood of an abomination coursing through your veins."

_"What is this queer motherfucker talking about?" Stephen is feeling a little antsy about the situation._

_"Be silent and ignore him, Steve."_

_"Your little lover is sitting in the back of the plane with the girls", Raj looks over his right shoulder, eyeing my lover with a cold gaze. "I've been meaning to take him from you. I'd love nothing more than to have him as my personal human slave. I'd perform 'miracles' on that plump ass of his."_

_"You're treading on thin ice with that remark, Raj. Leave or I'll make you leave."_

_"I won't leave you alone, Stuart", Raj looks down to me, whispering in my ear once again. "If you do not wish to obey me, I'll start off with this smart-mouthed bastard sitting next to you. Then, I'll work my way through everyone else on this plane who aren't clergymen of the Church. Afterwards, I'll hold your little lover for ransom, luring you off of your high-horse by tickling at your uncontrollable sexual appetite. I'll then take your life and, if I'm bored with your precious little Damien, I'll take his life as well. It's that easy…and there's nothing that you can do to stop me. Either come quietly…or we do things the hard way."_

_"This guy needs a shrink", Stephen dismisses the situation, turning his head away in disgust._

Stephen's the type to fail at understanding the seriousness of things.

He's so bull-headed and headstrong that he loses sight of the bigger picture, rending himself as nothing more than a victim to his own ignorance. His annoyed stink face propped on his right knuckle speaks for itself.

_He still believes that tale to be nothing more than a fable._

"Time's up, Mr. Bennett", Raj snaps his right set of fingers, causing everything around us to somehow freeze in place. My eyes widen in confusion, and I look around to see that even the plane has been frozen in the air, and the atmosphere has become a psychedelic tangerine color. My breathing rate is increasing – my mind's unable to comprehend what's going on. "How do you like my power of existence, Mr. Bennett? It's a little lesson I learned through my 876 years of life. I call it _'Clockwork Orange'_. Time has been completely frozen within this metaphysical universe, and things that wouldn't normally occur can now become reality."

He pulls a crisp 100 dollar bill from his jacket, whips it forward and makes it as straight as a board.

"Watch this, my friend", he tosses the dollar forward like a throwing knife, causing it to pierce through the skull of an unsuspecting passenger. That man's one of the technicians of our camera crew! Has he lost his God-damned mind? "If I deactivate Clockwork Orange right now, without surgically repairing his wound, he will die from massive head trauma. But, funny thing – I can only keep Clockwork Orange active for 5 minutes. It's such a shame… That man came to me the other day and told me about his plans to marry the girl of his dreams. This plane is headed in the direction of her hometown, where they've made plans to tie the knot. It's quite sad… This could've all been prevented if you would've just listened to me."

_For a vampire, this bastard's quite the coward._

"How could you call yourself a man after doing this?" my voice is filled with disgust, and my face has become quite dark. I look over my shoulder, gazing into his burning eyes. "That voice… he was right about you people of the Church."

_"Ah, so a member of Infinity has already contacted you", he snickers in delight, sporting his hungry canines with a bloodthirsty glare. "We do not fear the rebels – they are insignificant, and will only slow us down for a few short moments. It's best that you not get involved with them. They'll lead you down a road where there's no turning back…and everything will die in your hands…because we, the Church, wish it so."_

"What do the people of the Church call you – _'Massive Jackass'_?"

_"My name is Father Yuvraj Dhesi – Codename: Lord of Acid", the very first clergyman that I encounter is one of the most dangerous of the Church. His ability to freeze time and bend the laws of physics is a nightmare that would haunt a war-torn soldier for decades. Father Yuvraj's cold fist lightly touches my shoulder, causing it to dislocate. I jump up in a shriek, holding onto my left shoulder in excruciating pain. "Feels like hell, doesn't it? If I deactivate Clockwork Orange, you'll never compete, let alone be able to give your lover a proper hug…ever again."_

I turn on my heel, and relocate my arm into its socket. The pain stings, but it soon goes away… Father Yuvraj continues his assault, attempting to perform a right horizontal chop to my throat!

I duck down, but I am instantly blown away by a spontaneous burst of air pressure!

_"AAH!" my scream would alert the others, but they're frozen in time._

_My blood becomes hot… My body reacts with pure instinct._

I laterally poise my arms, and my body lightly glides to the floor. Father Yuvraj applauds my performance, walking towards me with an amused grin.

"Very good, Mr. Bennett. You've just discovered an inkling of your power of existence – the ability to manipulate the wind. All vampires possess such textbook ability, and even the lowest of our kind can glide."

"Why are you doing this to me? What do you people want?"

"We're greedy creatures, Mr. Bennett", he comes to a halt several inches away from me; far enough to get in enough speed for a decent charging attack. He shines his burning eyes upon my frozen frame, attempting to stiffen my muscles with his stare. I turn my eyes away from him, not wanting to look into them. "Smart move, but you're wide open!"

_Father Yuvraj draws a bullwhip from his jacket, and lashes it in my direction!_

"Shit!" I swear, pressing my back against the wall behind me. My movement was enough to escape the bullwhip's lash… Looking down at the floor, it appears to have been cracked. "What would that do? …What's going to happen if Clockwork Orange is deactivated?"

_"…That part of the floor will collapse", the answer that I get terrifies me. The clergyman dashes forward, curling his bullwhip in for a surprise attack. For the sake of those onboard, I successfully dodge every attack that he throws at me – wild kicks, punches and lashes of his whip that could kill me with a single touch. "The floor will collapse, and all the people onboard will be sucked to their deaths! I can reverse the effects of Clockwork Orange, turning everything back to normal! If you wish these people well, give up and let me drain you of your humanity!"_

"Shut up!" my blood boils, and I react – my right fist bashes into his left jaw, sending him flying away as if he were a rocket in aerospace. Father Yuvraj hits the ground hard, and it appears as if I've dislocated his jaw. I look at my fists in awe, amazed by the force of that one attack. "_Extraordinary!_ That much power packed into _one_ measly little attack?"

Father Yuvraj relocates his jawbone, grunting in pain.

_"Don't sing yourself praises just yet, half-breed", he stands to his feet, and looks at his wristwatch. He begins to laugh, amused by the time we've been at each other's throats. "This is too perfect… It's already been 2 minutes, which means that there's only 3 left."_

That's right – Clockwork Orange only lasts for 5 minutes… My word, that means that he's stalling me.

_He didn't come here to only kill me… He came here to kill everyone on this plane!_

_"I won't let you get away with this!" I dash forward, ready to engage in mortal combat with him._

"Yes, Mr. Bennett, run to your death!" the clergyman charges forward, tossing several dollar bills in my direction. The manufactured strips of paper cut at my clothes, brutally forcing me to react with my instincts… I duck down into a baseball slide, discovering my new sense of inhuman dexterity that would make high-flyers jealous. Father Yuvraj is struck with horrified awe. "_He's matured this quickly? How is that even possible?_"

_And then, the dhampir blood inside of me makes me do something…unbelievable._

**_"Expand! Paradise City!"_**_ the metaphysical world of Clockwork Orange becomes a few notches warmer, and my body becomes lit with a flaming light. Father Yuvraj's influences become null and void, and the laws of physics that were broken have been all corrected. The smell of blood and roses trails through the air, and I've noticed that Father Yuvraj is unable to move… He's been locked inside of his own power of existence. "Checkmate, bloodsucker… I've won this violent game of chess."_

_"What…have you…done…to me?" he grunts, attempting to part his lips._

_"My power of existence comes from the blood that courses through my veins. For a split second, I heard a voice in my head – a voice that told me to call out those words. 'Paradise City' is the name of this territory – a place where the realities are bound into the metaphysical world of Purgatory. My territory is one of sunlight, and sunlight renders nightwalkers useless in the face of an opposing force. I would ask you to sit your arse down quietly and explain yourself, or I'll have your lifeless ashes dance through the wind."_

_My power of existence suddenly deactivates…_

…My mind is in a state of confusion. I look at my hands, wondering how this could be possible. Paradise City was barely active for a few seconds, so how could it just disappear like that?

Father Yuvraj fixes his coat, laughing wholesomely.

"What the hell are you tittering at, you smug bastard?" I growl in offense towards his humored gesture.

_"You're truly a fool…", he snaps his fingers, and the Church pendant around his neck dissolves into celluloid dust. I look down at the ashes of what appears to be a dud, and then I look back up to him in confusion. Father Yuvraj approaches me with his hands behind his back. "…to not know that the pendant I wore was fake – you are a big fool. Headstrong and tough, but foolish still."_

"What are you getting at?"

_"This was a test set up by the man that you heard speaking to you through telepathy. The truth is – I'm an agent of Infinity, and a former member of the hypocritical Church of the Red Moon. Think about it… there's no way for the nightwalkers to sense your smell when your within closed spaces. The Church is waiting for you in Europe, so White Noise found it best to give you a warm up before you arrived there."_

"So, that whole thing about the Church being on my back is–?"

_"A cruel hoax to open your eyes. The Church is forbidden to cross onto unholy grounds. Ironically, the places that we visit monthly are considered 'impure' by Pope Leonard de Bleus – the nightwalker that fellow bloodsuckers revere and recognize as 'Moody Blues'."_

"Do all vampires truly possess a power of existence?"

_"I'm afraid so, my friend – some far more terrifying than ours. My Clockwork Orange is a C - Class territory. Yours…I'm pretty sure would be a C +. Existences have five classes – E, A, B, C, and D – both positive and negative in nature. All are equally dangerous, but their potency depends on the blood of the nightwalker wielding its power."_

"How was I able to win against you?"

_"We may be both of the C Class, but your positive outweighed my negative. It was your sheer instinct that drove you. Those who are positive classmen thrive on instinct; for the negative classmen, intellect. Your brawn outwitted my brains because I was mentally shocked by your rapidly progressing abilities. No mere vampire can become strong in such a short amount of time, and I was always one to believe the stories about half-breeds to be nothing more than exaggerated fables."_

Half-breeds… are _stronger_ than normal vampires?

If that's true, then I can now see why the Church wants to get rid of me… If I become strong enough, I could probably clean their morale to a bloody polish.

"Stuart, I want you to put our affairs of the past behind us", his honest tone catches my attention, and I can see his right hand extended to me. "In order to remain covert, you have to put up a physical and behavioral front. Would you be kind enough to excuse my rudeness?"

"Water under the bridge, my friend", we shake hands and I've officially found myself an ally.

* * *

><p><em>Father Yuvraj Dhesi.<em>

_Age: 876._

_Codename: Lord of Acid._

_Power of Existence: Time._

_Territory Name: Clockwork Orange._

_He is a covert member of the nightwalker radical group Infinity. Father Yuvraj is a man that parades around as an arrogant, smug-faced villain known to the WWE Universe as Jinder Mahal. In reality, Father Yuvraj is really a kind soul fighting to unite the races, and is a respected scholar. His power of existence is rooted in intellect, and he is a refined warrior capable of bending the laws of physics. I'm fortunate enough to have him as an ally, for he is indeed a very dangerous opponent._

_A question comes to mind – Who is the agent called "White Noise"?_

His voice sounded so familiar to me, almost as if I heard it every single day that I've been in this company. I wish to know who this faceless, vulgar-tongued informant is… He may very well become my strongest asset in this war of prejudice.

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme - "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Coming Up: Chapter 2 - Starship Pain)<strong>_


	3. Chapter 2: Starship Pain

_**BLOOD/Night**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Opening Theme - "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 2 - <strong>**Starship Pain**_

* * *

><p>It was about 6:30 PM when our plane touched down in Ireland.<p>

The sun was already setting in the sky, painting the heavens with shades of orange and turquoise. I've always enjoyed gazing into the sunset, wondering what events would happen when the moon finally claimed the night air. Times like these, I find myself enjoying the atmosphere with my boy.

Damien never complains.

I've grown to realize that he likes it when Daddy holds him. He's affectionate and warm – just the type that'd make mother proud of me. Well, of course, I've told her about him… Just by looking at a few of his pictures, the only thing she could say is, _"Well, he's a cute little number. Good job, Stuey"_.

_I blushed when she handed me those verbal flowers._

And then, I was introduced to the person that I inherited my perverted sense of humor from. My old lady went on to ask me, _"How many times have ya went digging in his gold mine?"_

I droned, surprised by my mother's vulgar behavior. I was fortunate enough to have that conversation in the privacy of my hotel room, when my Sweets was out socializing with a few of the guys… Yeah, I know – I'm not much of a fun person, but I can't stand hanging around some of the _uncouth apes_ that I work with.

_Stephen's beaming like an Irish lighthouse._

The last time I saw him _this_ happy, it was 2-for-1 night the local bar. I can't comprehend some of these Irishmen – getting hammered at the drop of a pin. Men aren't themselves when they're impaired… I should know – I said some God-awful things to Sweets the last time I was drunk, and he nailed me in the sack with his size 12s.

_I was numb for a couple of hours, and I fear that my sperm count may have suffered a bit._

_I'm exaggerating with the sperm count, but you know what I mean._

I haven't put a single glass to my lips – champagne, beer, wine, rum, liquor – in a few months. I'm a tad bit ashamed to say that I've snuck a can of beer into my bags about a week ago… It came up missing, and Damien got on my case about it shortly thereafter.

_Yeah…he threw it away._

It was the fear of seeing me in "that state" again – impaired and at a loss of proper judgment – that drove him to do it… I admitted to my problem, and I've been taking a 10-steps course to completely wean myself of alcohol. I should be somewhere on Step 4 by now.

_Forgive me…I tend to ramble on about myself at times._

_**"****How was your flight to Ireland, Stu?"**__ the voice of White Noise speaks to me, once again._

_("Shitty… Any other questions?")_

"_**I hope Father Yuvraj didn't hurt you too much. He's a headstrong son of a bitch – always has been, always will be."**_

_("He pretty much coaxed me into discovering my power of existence"), I begin walking forward, keeping my words concealed in my thoughts – Damien cradling against me like a satisfied teenager. ("That man's a genius. He missed me on purpose… Every attack that he threw at me was half-executed. My blood excited and I discovered 'Paradise City' – the territory of the sun that has the ability to correct the laws of physics.")_

_**"****Pretty nifty sounding existence power you've got there"**__, I can tell that he's being sarcastic, but I take his boorishness with a grain of salt. __**"You'd do yourself a favor learning how to keep it active a bit longer."**_

_("How do I go about doing that?")_

_**"****Focus, Stuart. Keep your focus and never get caught up in the moment. In order to become one with your existence, you must always keep a cool head. Don't think you've won before you've even landed a killing blow… Your existence will think the same, and it will believe that you've no further use for it in your current situation. Paradise City is a very empathic existence – it's tied to the mind, body and soul of the person wielding its shining light. Its name speaks for itself."**_

_("Paradise City… What is it?")_

_**"****It's the manifestation of God, shining as a glorious golden aureole"**__, the words that White Noise speaks is nothing short from amazing. This power that I have…is favored by God? __**"Paradise City responds as He would – when you need Him, He's there. If you don't need Him, He will sit and wait for you to truly need Him again. That's why I say it's best to keep a cool head, especially with a power like this one. Stuart, when you finally learn how to handle Paradise City…you'll very well be the strongest of all existence users."**_

_I'm seeing more and more…the reasons behind the Church's fear._

Wise men and some theological scholars believe _the Three Heavenly Bodies_ – the sun, the moon, and the stars – to be the eyes and ears of God. One eye watches the people of the daytime, one eye watches those of the night, and the stars are his many messengers keeping tabs on all of humanity. I've always found myself fascinated with theological sciences, and I do believe this to be somewhat true.

_Compare the current situation to this theory._

The Church of the Red Moon is a coven of bias nightwalkers, and despise _everything_ that roams about in the light. This innate stigma has been passed down for generations, stemming back to the first of the carnivorous bloodsuckers – the ancestor of Lord Frederic…the fabled _Count Valdo von Dracula_. After doing some genealogical research about Lord Frederic, I've discovered his reason behind loving Lady Maribel Newman.

_Lord Frederic wanted to break the hatred that his great-grandfather, Count von Dracula, started over 700 years before the Romance of the Tainted Rose._

Lord Frederic despised his great-grandfather so much that he reversed the letters of his surname.

Frederic von Dracula became _Frederic von Alucard_ – a gesture of reinventing his image and starting his immortal life anew. He approached the Church, who're followers of Count von Dracula's cause, and legally had his surname changed. That happened a month before he fatedly met the human nobleman's daughter, Lady Maribel.

_Just that act alone – alienating himself from the Von Dracula name – struck the attention of the Church with an iron lash… The wound left behind by such a gesture of hatred set Count von Dracula into a state of depression – the very thing that made Pope Leonard de Bleus begin to despise the rebellious bloodsucker._

The vampires' hatred for humans reached another level of hostility, a level so ludicrous that several clergymen of the Church began to see the irrationality of the Pope's decisions… King Henry of Aldington allowed Pope Leonard to do whatever he pleased, allowing the uneasy clergymen to see that not even the royal family lacked any sense of humanity… Except for one – the queen, Katherine of Rutherford.

_Having already aligned herself with the humans in secrecy, Queen Katherine personally formed the radical group Infinity – an army of bloodsuckers and humans with a like cause… To unite the races and to put an end to the bloodshed that has veiled the eyes of the people with ignorance._

Father Paddington O'Shay, a B + Class existence user and a child of the night, acted as a messenger to those that Infinity wished to protect. The Queen sent him there shortly after the death of her lover – a bloodsucker named _Thaddeus Elmer Beatles_ – at the hands of Lord Frederic. She knew that the death of Thaddeus would greatly upset the Church, and the motive behind the killing made them _even_ _angrier_.

_The stigma of the Church reached an all-time high…on the night they sent a group of assassins to sabotage the wedding ceremony mentioned in the Romance of the Tainted Rose._

_Father Christian White_ – the clergyman revered as _White Album, the Chanter of Elegies_ – led the group of dispatched cutthroats. Though his mission was a failure, the grudge created on that night burned in his heart…probably to this day… growing _bitterer_ with each passing moment. After Lord Frederic's unexplained death, Infinity took another route and began protecting the escaped Queen Katherine, Lady Maribel and Baby Christopher via their North American branch.

_Even after Lady Maribel's death by ailment, Infinity kept watch of the Queen and the dhampir child in complete and utter silence._

Their names were legally changed by the American government.

Their lives became a constant struggle just to survive the wrath of the Church.

Now named _Katherine and Christopher Bennett_, the eternal refugees lived under the word of the people that they've aligned themselves with. Informants, such as the faceless _White Noise_, have been at their side for generations… gifting them with an open road to a safer life.

_From what I've studied, Katherine and Christopher are still alive to this very day._

White Noise was probably sent to me by Infinity under the request of the Queen. Because of these concerns, White Noise – with his arrogant and pompous arse – has nagged me for the past 24 hours. I'm not crazy for saying this… I wish that Maribel would've opened her legs to a _human_, instead of a vampire.

I wouldn't have to deal with this _constant headache_ if that were the case.

_**"****What's on your mind, Stuart?"**_

_("White Noise, I'm making love to my boy. Go away.")_

_**"****Well, if you don't want my help, cum a few times – if you can last for that long – and then have one of the clergyman slaughter you and your precious little sugar cakes for their evening meal. Be my guest, ya prick!"**_

_("Oh hell, make it quick!")_

_**"****No, 'quick' is your bust count – this is going to take some time, bro."**_

_("…Are you calling me a '1-minute man'?")_

_**"****Oh, so you've got a brain in there after all? Good – it'll come in handy. Now, listen up."**_

_("What? One of the clergymen wants to get rough with me?")_

_**"****Precisely, bro…and this isn't a test this time. This guy has been following you this entire time for the super-show recording in Rutherford. After the events of Dublin, which you did pretty well at tonight…congrats…"**_

_("Thanks a bunch, man.")_

_**"**_**…**_**No problem. Anyway, the clergyman was ordered by White Album to finally unveil himself."**_

_("I thought Father Yuvraj said that the Church was unable to know where I was.")_

_**"****Turns out…we were wrong about that. The Church is sneakier than we thought –the bloodsucker revered as 'Backdoor Man the Gates of Perception' is currently on his way to catch up with the Smackdown roster near Kingsley. That's about a week before you get to Rutherford, according to your company's travel schedule. And trust me, Backdoor Man is twice as strong as Father Yuvraj. Lord of Acid will be there to support you, but you must promise me one thing – keep your head cool, man. Infinity and all of humankind depends on your survival… and make sure to keep cute little Damien safe."**_

_("Oh God…!")_

_**"****Why are you swearing the Lord's name?"**_

_("…Isn't it obvious?")_

_**"****Eww…"**__ he catches on to the fact that I just ejaculated into my condom with a disgusted tone. __**"You need some alone time, 1-minute champ?"**_

_("That was an hour's timing, you asshole!")_

_**"****This bastard can't count – typical."**_

_("Oh go away, damn you!") I mentally snap at him, somehow successfully chasing him away._

_**"****Alright, alright already – don't squirt your menstruation on me, Ms. Sassy Pants! Gees!"**_

_I'm really starting to hate him._

"Daddy, why do you look like you've been arguing with someone?" my boy lays a kiss on my lips, laying down at my right side. I shake my head with a fibbing grin. "Don't give me that tooth-and-cheek act of yours. Be out with it."

_"…Am I a '1-minute man' to you?"_

"If you add about 89 minutes to that 1 minute, I'll be more than happy to say _yes_."

_"It was really an 1 and a half's timing?"_

"What's made you so insecure?" he holds onto me, cradling against me like a little protector. Damien runs his fingers across my soft mane, comically forcing me to growl like a lion. He giggles sheepishly, and my lips tickle his neck. "Oh! Okay, I take that back – I take it back! That's my sweet spot, Stu, cut it out!"

_"Mmm, brown sugar skin…" I bury my jaws on his neck, but he suddenly pulls away from me in pain._

_"Ouch, you bit me!"_

_"I did what?" I didn't bite that hard, I merely nibbled at him._

_"You bit me, look", he shows me his left jugulars, and I can see small yet sharp teeth marks and a little blood has surfaced. He looks into my mouth and sees something unusual. "…Stuart…why does most of your teeth look like…canines?"_

"…_Excuse me for a moment, love", I get out of bed and instantly head to the restroom mirror._

Damien follows me there, and we turn on the light to the image of what _he_ sees.

Every tooth in my mouth has become like that of a carnivorous animal. These teeth are made for quicker shredding and grinding – razor-sharp canines at _every_ angle.

_My word! My oral bone structure has silently altered in the past 24 hours?_

"Stuart, this isn't normal", Damien's concerns grasp my attention.

"It's best left alone, love."

_"Best left alone?" he angers, showing me his bite mark in outrage. "You call this 'best left alone'? Humans aren't supposed to have that many sharp teeth, Stuart!"_

"Damien… you wouldn't believe me if I told you _why_ this has happened."

"_What is it? Another campfire tale?"_

"_If it were only that simple, love, I'd gladly say 'yes' to that", the seriousness in my vocal and facial expressions speak of a thousand-fold of dangers to come. Damien is instantly set into a state of listening. "Come sit with me, love… I've something very important to explain to you. It affects more than just you and me – it affects everyone on the face of this earth."_

_Damien and I retreated to our bed…and I told him everything – from A to Z – of what I know about my current situation._

* * *

><p>"So, you're saying that vampires a real?" my words have somehow dug into his trust factor.<p>

_"Damien, when Raj attacked me, I was introduced to something called 'The Power of Existence'. From what White Noise tells me about this power, all vampires and those of vampire lineage are innately blessed with this ability. Hollywood fairy tales like Twilight, Fright Night, Interview with the Vampire, and even the Dracula re-masteries – all hogwash and lies, created by the mortal man."_

"So, this 'Church' – they want to _kill_ you because you're a descendant of a peaceful love? Stuart, that's horrible… What would make them hate us _that_ _much_…that they would want to continue fighting?"

_"White Noise and Raj explains it best – it's the hunt and the preservation of the food chain. If humans and vampires coexist, the killing and the bloodshed will stop… It was Lord Frederic's wish to end the fighting by marrying Lady Maribel and her having his child. It was a failed attempt, and it led straight up to me – his current blood descendant. I would've liked you to remain blind to this, but what I've done to you – that mistake is something that I can't get past right now."_

Damien remains as my boy, comforting me in my time of shame with warm arms.

"Stuart, half a beast or not, I still love you", he plants a kiss on my lips, peering over my left shoulder.

_"You're such a sweet little boy, love", my voice becomes warm and gentle, activated by his affectionate nature. "We should go out this weekend, Sweets. It's high time we enjoyed the pleasures of the evening."_

"Is that the _beast_ in you talking, Mr. Home-body?"

"_No, this is", I stand up and scoop him off of his feet, making him giggle like a giddy child._

I lay him down in bed, and we are instantly greeted by – guess who?

_**"****Aww, sugar smacks – save the mushy stuff, damn you"**__, oh Lord in heaven, here we go again with the meaningless sarcasm. Damien stops kissing me and looks around in confusion. __**"Having a good evening with your half-bred lover, my cute little friend?"**_

"Daddy…is that–?" Damien looks at me with a curious ogle.

_"Damien, this is our new friend – White Noise, our faceless informant."_

_**"****I'd give you a hug, but I'm about 800 miles away from you, sugar cheeks"**__, giggles our sarcastic informant, tickling my lover to a blush._

"Oh my goodness, we've a Scot in our midst", blushes Damien, reminding me of his liking towards the Scotsmen and their rough accents. "Daddy, he sounds so handsome and kind. Why does he gets under your skin so much, love?"

_**"****Because I tell him the truth and he hates it"**__, smugly titters the faceless informant._

_"Like hell you do – calling me a 1-minute man when you damn well knew I went over an hour!"_

_**"****More like 1 second."**_

_"Oh, shut up!"_

_**"****Get your pipe game up and I'll shut up"**__, Damien is hollering in laughter, making me feel a little embarrassed to say anything else._

"Okay, lay off of him, Mr. White Noise", my lover stands at my side, hugging onto me like a little protector. He knows that I have problems with feeling inadequate to him, so having White Noise down-talk me in such a manner kind of…bothers me. "Stuart, White Noise is only playing with you. He's making fun of you to see if you're going to open up to him. I think our Scottish friend actually likes you, and that's why he's so smart-mouthed and boorish with you. Lest you forget, you've a mouth of your own."

_**"****Yeah, so stop bellyaching and start playing along"**__, well, after learning the truth, I guess White Noise's arrogant talk isn't all that bad. __**"Look at it this way, Stuart – someone's got to get you feeling like yourself, especially after learning about all of this stigmatic bullshit we're going through."**_

_"For a holy man, you've quite the dirty tongue", I wittily point with a sarcastic sneer._

**_"I'm Catholic, I'm Scottish, I drink and I smoke. These robes don't mean jack-shit, especially after my departure from the Church. As I stand, I'm nothing more than a finely-dressed vampire activist. I'm in as much deep shit as you are, Stuart… and… I'm afraid that you're in the same situation, Damien."_**

_"Why do you say that, White Noise?"_

_**"****Uh-oh…"**_

_"What's wrong, Mr. White Noise?" Damien holds his mouth, alerted by our informant's precautions tone._

_**"****I'll have to get back with you two. I've got some unwanted guests amidst the conversation."**_

_"Bloodsuckers?" I guess._

_**"About 27 of them – if that many. This is a piece of cake – they're all D + Classmen, and it looks like they're all pretty weak, being that there are way too many of them… I'll contact you guys when I'm done."**_

_"Take care, my friend."_

_**"****Plan on it. Over."**_

* * *

><p>"Damien, is that a bite mark on your neck?" Natalie's keen perception never fails her, as Damien rides in the backseat with her. He holds onto his left jugular, remembering the mark's position. "Oh, don't even much try to cover it up! Where did that come from?"<p>

_"I was fooling around and got hurt, that's all", he beams happily, fibbing to his good friend._

"Are you sure?"

_"Yeah, I'll be fine. It's just a minor flesh wound, after all."_

"If you say so…" Natalie shoots me a cold, suspicious stare through the rear-view mirror.

All of a sudden, the image of a man dressed in pure white robes with a hood appears in front of our car.

_"Shit!" I step on the breaks, bringing the car to a sudden halt. Nattie, TJ, and Sweets hang on for the rough ride, until the robed man stops the car by simply putting his right foot on the bumper. Everyone gets out of the car, running up to the man to see if he's well in the head. "Sir, have you gone mad? You could've been killed!"_

"My mistake…" the robed man takes his foot off of the car… There's a red cross and moon pendant around his neck. Oh Lord, not now! "…I would've just waved to you, but you wouldn't have stopped any other way. Humans are like that, after all – always out for themselves, ignoring innocent travellers on the road. God could be asking for a ride, and the humans would fail to pull over for Him. Shameful, to say the least."

_"You're obviously not God, so why bother with the allegories?" TJ is showing a bit of irritation and annoyance towards this veiled character. "Who are you, anyway?"_

_"You already know who I am, all of you", the clergyman unveils himself and shows us his face._

__Everyone is shocked to see who stands before us unmasked.__

_"What the hell? Morrison?"_

_"That's 'Father John Hennigan' to you, half-breed", we're all at a loss of words, seeing one of our young wrestling greats standing before us with such foreboding presence._

_"Since when were you a priest, John?" questions the curious TJ._

"_Yeah, what's up with all of this?" seconds Nattie. "And did you just call Stu 'a half-breed'?"_

_"Why not ask the abomination my reasons for being here?" John shoots me a fierce, burning stare._

I don't know how to react to this – a man that I've grown to respect works for the Church of the Red Moon… I've fought in-ring with this man, and we've even shared outings with each other. He supported me when I told him about Damien and I joining as lovers. So, why – _why_ does it have to be him?

_"John, how long have you kept this a secret? When were you going to tell me the truth?"_

_"I've been a member of the Church for the past 651 years of my immortal life", my lover and my friends are shocked to hear the number of years. 6 centuries, 5 decades and 1 year – that's a long time to be roaming the world of the living. "The Pope sent me here, and I've got a mission to carry out. Sadly, a vampire's power isn't at its strongest point during the daytime… So, I won't attack you now."_

_"Then why have you shown your face, clergyman?"_

_"I want you to know 'who' I am… because I want you to fear me. I want you to know 'who's' out for your head, I want you to 'see' the eyes of the man that will drain you of your humanity, and I want you to know the 'face' of the man that'll kill everyone listening to this conversation before midnight… So, does that answer your question, half-breed – yes, no, maybe, sort of?"_

_"Could someone tell me what's going on here?" Natalie loses her patience, making John shoot her a burning stare that freezes her in place._

_"Mannish-sounding little bitch, away with you!" with those words, Natalie is repulsed by a flash of air pressure – a gale so strong that it carries her 20-feet away from the group. TJ angers at the sight of John manhandling his girlfriend, and attempts to attack the clergyman with a physical attack; however, Father John's power of existence locks Theodore in suspended animation. The vampire clergyman shoots him a burning glare, flashing his hungry fangs. "Annoying – all humans are completely annoying!"_

_TJ is also repulsed by the power of existence, landing back-first 20-feet away from us!_

I stand in front of Damien to protect him from the unveiled clergyman. Father John looks into my eyes, shooting me a burning leer filled with bloodlust. He giggles, pleased with what he's done to Natalie and Theodore – taking a sick liking to an act of violence.

_"The Gates of Perception can sometimes make me…a little violent."_

_"You call what you've done 'a little violent'? Seriously? You could've killed them – people you've made and shaped our business with for years! Have you lost your God-damned mind, John Randal Hennigan?"_

_"I don't know… Maybe I have lost my mind, but it was the humans who took it from me – humans and their hateful ways, oppressing people for generations, constantly hating those that they fail to understand… Such animosity and cruelty can turn any man mad, give or take a few hundred years. And then, out of nowhere, one of the little spoiled rich girls of the disgusting race decided to open her legs to one of us, making the situation all the more…revolting. A human and a vampire made your kind, abominating the natural order and turning the very foundation of the night upside down! It's only natural now for us to hate humans, wanting to continue feasting on their bloody souls – savor the sweet crunch of their throbbing muscles. Take those two – Natalie and Theodore… I could take their lives right now, but I won't. I'll be back tonight at the super-show… until then, you better pray to God that I choose to leave you alone until then."_

Father John holds his arms laterally, leaping high into the azure.

_All of a sudden, the atmosphere becomes tangerine orange… Clockwork Orange has been activated?_

_Then, that can only mean…_

_"Those clergymen were always fond of leaving a mess lying around", Raj's voice comes from the north, where Natalie's body is laid in unconsciousness. Damien and I look in his direction, seeing his warm smile beaming upon us. "So, you've discovered the truth – the 'Shaman of Sexy' is really a clergyman in disguise."_

"Raj, how did you find us?" asks Damien, as I head over to check on TJ.

_"Clockwork Orange's satellite ability picked up traces of violent behavior coming from this area", Natalie awakens from her unconscious state. Father Yuvraj helps her to her feet. "Are you all right, Natalie?"_

"If you can give me the number of that train, I'll be all right", smiles the Canadian beauty, becoming confused by Raj's presence. "Where did _you_ come from? I thought you didn't like Americans."

"Who am I to hate the people who've allowed me to find a new home in their country?" Father Yuvraj approaches TJ's unconscious body, concentrating his existence to bend the laws of physics. "Natalie, I grew up not far from where you lived a few years ago. My onscreen personality and the way that I've treated everyone up until recently – they're nothing more than cruel masks to cover the truth about myself."

"The…truth?" Natalie's confusion is getting the best of her.

"Looks like your lover's going to be ok, my friend", TJ's eyes part and open to see the blue skies above. Raj helps his fellow Canadian to his feet, turns around and looks at the rest of us. "We should be off. Infinity wants _'the Queen'_ to be safe, after all."

_Father Yuvraj gives Natalie a look, making her blush and hold onto her right arm._

_Wait a second… TJ's acting strange, too?_

"Theodore, Natalie, is there something you're not telling us?"

_"Stuart, what Father Yuvraj says is true", Natalie approaches us with burning eyes, making Damien hide behind me in a startle. Lord, don't tell me… Natalie is–? "Sorry for keeping things so quiet for so long. Did I do a good job of acting like a human woman, Damien?"_

"Nattie…are you–?"

_"Yes, Stuart. I…am Lady Katherine MacArthur, the former Queen of Rutherford."_

_"And I'm her servant and lover, Brother Theodore D'Zirconia of Infinity", TJ catches our attention, and we face him...beholding his burning glare. "Stuart, I too am a dhampir that Infinity is protecting. Kat and I are in this fight with you. Sorry about lying to you, man."_

"Well…" I laugh about this awkward situation, scratching my head in a bit of confusion. "…looks like things are becoming _more_ _interesting_ with every fleeting moment."

"Enough with the 'hello' and 'how are you' talk", the former Queen catches our attention with her stern, yet strong character. "Let's get out of here. The Church, as you've just seen, will attack at any given moment. It's best that we get Damien out of here. Father Yuvraj, we'll see you at Kingsley."

Raj deactivates Clockwork Orange and bows to his superior, "As you wish, Lady Katherine."

Father Yuvraj's image fades away with the wind, translocating him from the area.

Along the way, Katherine and Brother Theodore asked us to call them by the names we've grown to love them with – Nattie and TJ. The two refugees want us to keep that image of them, ignoring the fact that they're several hundred years older than us. Compared to Natalie and Theodore, we're children…and that would explain why they're starting to treat us as such.

For instance – when Nattie noticed Damien's bite mark.

She explained to us that she _knew_ it was from my jaws because Theodore went through the same phase. When he was 22-years-old, he accidentally bit his former girlfriend. From what he tells us about her, his ex wasn't as understanding as Damien – she slapped him and ran off in tears.

_That was around the time that he met Nattie – or, should I say "Queen Katherine" – and she did take him in, teaching him the ways of the vampire. Theodore has lived as a half-breed for several generations, and it's a life that he has yet to regret living._

_Still, finding out that John's a clergyman isn't setting right with me._

Barely halfway to Kingsley, Damien broke down in tears. John and Damien are – well, _were_ – very close. During his relationship problems with Melina, who has since left the company, Damien was there to talk to both of them. Damien was the reason that they were able to remain friends. John's made Damien very happy in the past, and he even started calling him "little bro". Out of everyone, John _doesn't_ want to kill Damien – the clergyman simply wants to scare him away, hoping that he won't have to leave his bloody mark on him.

_What John's done so far is forgivable, but he's really starting to get on my bad side._

If there's a way to stop him, I'll do my very best to find out what that "way" is. The last thing I want to do is make Damien cry, taking the life of someone he truly cares about… This may very well be my hardest battle to deal with…because I _know_ the emotional impact of the consequences that are presented to me.

_I'm scared… I don't want to kill John, and I don't want to hurt Damien._

_What should I do, Paradise City?_

_How can I stop a vampire…without killing it?_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme - "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Up Next: Chapter 3 - Midnight Dream)<strong>_


	4. Chapter 3: Midnight Dream

_**BLOOD/NIGHT**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Opening Theme - "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 3 - <strong>**Midnight Dream**_

* * *

><p><em>A band of bloodsuckers have gathered at the docks before Sarah Kingsley Beach, retrieving cargo sent to them from a human manufacturing branch in South America.<em>

"Be careful with those boxes, boy!" the team leader throws his orders at a lazy human laborer.

"_Y-yes, sir", shudders the laborer._

It's a disgusting trade – the manufacturing of humans who've mindlessly sacrificed themselves to Count von Dracula's cause. This underground illegal activity is a baby in age… For the past 12 years, the Church has funded this madman's fantasy to gather food for fellow bloodsuckers. Human delicacies that'd drive a cannibal _insane_ with delight – they _all_ have origins from this trading business… _The Ferryman Coastal Company._

The workers consist of underpaid human laborers and _overpaid_ vampires favored by _the Red Moon Union_.

Slave drivers hired by the Church supervise the illegal trade with an iron fist. Their current supervisor is a middle-ranked clergyman that dockworkers revere as _"Cry Baby"_ – a venomous brute with a cold, poisonous stare.

Cry Baby gets his name from the brutal ethics he learned in his days as a longshoreman. He knows everything about wharfing, and he honors the man who showed him the ropes of this disgusting line of work – the legendary "_Cotton-Eye" Joe Sanders_. The one-eyed wharf master's job ethics bleed from Cry Baby's shattering tone. He also carries a bullwhip at his side, just like Cotton-Eye Joe did in the early 1800s.

_Cry Baby cracks his lash on the back of a human laborer who's dropped a box of entrails on the docks._

_"AAH!" the human laborer cringes in pain, feeling the lash rip at his flesh._

"Get your ass up, daywalker! Drop my shit again and I'll _drop_ you!"

_"Y-yes, Cry Baby – whatever you say, sir!" the young man scurries away, several union workers tittering at the sight of his unbearable fear._

_A mocking whistle lights the air with a melodious, reverberating tune._

_"Who the fuck's doing all of that bloody whistling?" Cry Baby's voice echoes across the entire wharf._

"Not I, sir!" answers one of the union laborers.

"No one's whistling here, Cry Baby!" calls another.

_"Then why do I hear whistling?"_

"Yep, he's finally fleshy-whipped himself crazy", a union laborer giggles under his breath.

This whistling – an irritating tooting of _"God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Johnny Cash_ – is only heard by Cry Baby… No one else seems to hear its eerie tune that's burning into the back of the supervisor's mind.

_"Oh, my god!" a union laborer is running away in fear, bumping directly into the slave driver._

_"What's wrong with you?"_

_"He's…he's dead!" shock brings the union laborer to his knees, striking the attention of several other workers. Cry Baby suddenly smells the spilled blood of a vampire – a scent that comes from the direction a man draped in black. The vampire laborer runs away from the man, fearing his frightening image. "AH! No, get him away from me! He's a demon! A monster, I tell you!"_

Cry Baby looks at the man in black coat and hat, his face hidden from everyone watching, with the eyes of a man whose business is being jeopardized. The wharf master's tone burns with a beastly anger.

_"What the fuck do you want, stranger? Are you causing trouble like he says?"_

_"God sent me here, asking me to end your disgusting trade route", the man lifts his head up, exposing his youthful chin and a full set of canines. Cry Baby shudders at the sight of what appears to be one of his own. __**"Cut them down! Sticky Fingers!"**_

The union worker behind Cry Baby suddenly feels a hand grabbing at his right leg!

_"AAH! NO, DON'T RIP ME APAR–!" before he can utter another word, the cowardly union worker's body is shredded a thousand-fold into a bloody mulch._

Cry Baby feels the bleeding tissue stain his back, sending his senses into a state of fear-instilled shock.

_"OH GOD!" another union laborer suffers the same fate._

_"RUN AWAY!" the vampire dockworkers scurry from the area, the humans watching with silent incredulity._

The hearts of the human dockworkers are ignited with hope!

"Rip those bloodsuckers apart, fella!" the human laborers cheer the stranger on.

The stranger in black tips his hat to the laborers, and then shoots the frozen Cry Baby a burning stare. The slave driver squeezes his lash, itching to crack it against the murder's bones.

_"You want to try God's wrath, Cry Baby?" the handsome voice of the veiled stranger strikes the wharf master with a cold chill. "I don't like slavery. You were hurting these men because they're human. Now that your little union workers are being killed off by Sticky Fingers, look at the mass that stands up against you. The odds aren't in your fair, nightwalker."_

_"Who…are you?" shudders the frozen wharf master._

_"_…_I'm the one people call 'Moonlight Mile the Protected One'. Sticky Fingers has chosen me, and the wrath of God is upon all those who terrorize humans and bloodsuckers alike…for I am both the races joined together."_

_"You're a half-breed?" Cry Baby gasps._

_"Is it so hard to believe, watching these arrogant bitches fall like flies?" the question turns Cry Baby's eyes to the massacre around him, allowing him to see the last of the 47 union laborers shred into a bloody splatter. Cry Baby is now surrounded by 39 human laborers and 1 dangerous half-breed. "Listen to the anger that you've cowardly created, Cry Baby! Hear its bone-shattering tune!"_

The human laborers have gathered around the scene, cheering with brutal ire.

_"Fuck him up, man!"_

_"Who's getting whipped now, nightwalker?"_

_"Beat him till his mum feels it, stranger!"_

_"You're all fired – all of you are fired!" the slave driver tries to work up a mode of confidence, but his words fail to reach the hearts of the angered mob. "You're nothing without me! I'll show you all…by taking this fool's head as a trophy! Just watch me!"_

_Cry Baby lashes his whip forward, but he forgets – Sticky Fingers is still activated._

_The lash of the bullwhip is grabbed by a metal forearm and hand that emerges from a small rift in the air.. The lash shreds and falls to the ground in a million pieces, as if it were attacked by an angry legion._

_Cry Baby backs away from the metal hand in fear, causing it to react by fiercely grabbing onto his throat. The wharf master is lifted inches off of his feet, hanging from the metal hand in an attempt to free himself._

_"A real man doesn't fight with toys, Cry Baby", the dhampir's confidence is monstrous, almost monumental. Moonlight Mile approaches the choking nightwalker, standing an inch from his hanging body. He looks up to the choking beast and rears his right arm back. "Forgive me…if I break your heart."_

_"Don't do this!" chokes the terrified vampire, before the cold-blooded right arm pierces through his chest._

Sticky Fingers is deactivated, allowing the lifeless corpse to hit the ground – a symbol of failure that will greatly upset the Church. Moonlight Mile throws the blood from his right arm to splatters upon the docks. A sarcastic grin colors his youthful face.

_"Damn…and I just bought this coat. Oh well, tough shit. My bad luck never fails me."_

"He's…dead?" one of the human laborers marvels at the sight of the slave-driving Cry Baby's dead body. Excitement stirs up, and the humans release their overwhelming joy. "He's dead! Praise be to God, he's dead!"

The human laborers rave their freedom, lighting the skies with a sick fanfare.

"_SHUT THE FUCK UP!" shame hits the workers, and the mass is silenced by Moonlight Mile's disgust._

"Why is he so angry with us?" whispers one of the laborers, receiving a burning stare as a reaction.

_"You're damn right I'm angry with you, but God's __**furious**__ with all of you! What psycho would lower himself to selling off his fellow man as food for bloodsuckers? Have you all lost your God-damned minds? Speak up!"_

A hand touches Moonlight Mile's back, grasping the attention of his burning glare.

"It was the Pope, sir", the young laborer from the earlier accident humbles himself before Moonlight Mile. "The Pope…he did this to all of us. Please, sir…don't be angry with us. It wasn't our fault."

"The Pope, eh?" Moonlight Mile lacks any surprise.

"Y-yes…s-s-s-sir!" the young man appears to be a teenager no older than 14. All of a sudden, the boy recognizes the dhampir's face, stepping back in shock. "_No way!_ This is amazing – downright _too_ _awesome_ to be true! You work for the WWE, don't you?"

_"It's a cover-up, kid. Glad to you know that you recognize me, but why is a little squirt like you working for the Church? You're not even of legal working age, yet."_

"The Church took us from our homes and slaughtered our families", an older Irish wharfie in his mid-40s steps forward and explains what the thrilled teen's incapable of clarifying right now. Moonlight Mile turns his attention to the man, listening to his every word. "I was the top legal attorney in my neck of the woods, then those burning-eyed bastards showed up in the wee hours of the night – took everything from me. I had a beautiful wife and two lovely daughters – 17 and 15-years-old – that needed me to keep bringing in paper. I've been here for the past 9 years. Many others were here from the start. Like this little lad you're talking to – _he's_ been working here since square 1."

"God is merciful, my friends", the half-breed fixes his hat and beams a dark smile. "Infinity favors you, and you shall soon find peace in the days to come. Our Witness Protection Program will keep you safe, help you to start anew and will surely give you a second chance at life."

_Sticky Fingers is activated, appearing before all the laborers with business cards._

The human laborers receive the business cards, recognizing them as the famous _Infinity P2 Division Passes_ – business cards handed out by high-ranked members of the radical group. Sticky Fingers is deactivated, as Moonlight Mile continues with his words of refuge.

"Call the number on those cars, my brothers", the dhampir beams at the many young and seasoned workers, showing them great kindness.

"Who are you, really?" asks the older Irish worker.

_"Christopher Bennett, formally Christopher von Alucard."_

_"You're THE Baby Christopher?"_

"I'm not a 'baby' anymore, sir. That was centuries ago. Now… I'm one undead man that the Church _shits_ their pants at the sight of, and a friend to people like you fine gentlemen. Keep your heads up, brothers. The war to end this kind of bloodshed…is far from over. My extension is on the back of those cards – use it if you _have_ to. I can't _stand_ false alarms."

_A rift opens to Christopher's left. He steps through it, the rift reflexively closing like an automatic door._

_Comically enough, the young wrestling fan gushes in delight, "That…was fucking…awesome!"_

* * *

><p><em>"What? Cry Baby's been killed?" the Pope is greatly disturbed by a vampire informant's report.<em>

"Yes, your holiness. It was Moonlight Mile's doing", confirms the phoning informant.

_"His territory, Sticky Fingers, is quite the infernal nightmare… Lord, have mercy on the ignorant one – he knows not the fools he protects."_

"Rest your heart, your holiness. You're not a young vampire anymore."

_"Silence yourself, White Album", the Pope's voice speaks with bleeding annoyance. "You've not many chances left with me, so don't go about pointing at my age!"_

"Forgive me, your holiness. I only wish you good fortune."

Pope Leonard calms himself, seeing his actions as irrational and childish.

"Lord, I've grown angry by mistake", he giggles about his behavior, surprised that a man of his hierarchical position would possess such irritability. "I've only had that trade route for a decade and some years. Moonlight Mile – _that faceless_ _infidel_ – has cut me a few pennies short with his murderous actions. I still can't bring myself to understand why – _why_ he would protect such hateful and mindless animals."

"He's his son – Lord Frederic von Alucard's offspring. It's only natural that the former Queen of Rutherford would raise him to love both races. She did a _fine_ job of corrupting his mind in place of the boy's parents… That sordid little witch rotted the very foundation of the races, _ripping_ us of some of our finest clergymen in the process. Her actions are _nothing_ short of sickening and _unforgivable_."

_A gentle knock comes from the Pope's door._

"White Album, I'll get back with you – I've a guest at the door."

"May God be with you, your holiness", the phone conversation is ended.

"I've been expecting you, Sister Mary Victoria. You may enter, my dear."

A beautiful daughter of the Church – a strikingly fair lady of African descent – graces the Pope with her elegance. She pierces her chest with a cross, politely bowing afterwards.

_"Your holiness, Backdoor Man's mission to annihilate the fledgling is coming along very well", reports the beautiful nun, receiving a beam of delight from the Pope. "The people there recognize him as 'John Hennigan' – the professional wrestler revered as 'John Morrison', amongst several ridiculous epithets and monikers. His veil has even ensnared the target's lover, Damien Crosse. I'm in no position to lie to you about this – something troubles me about Backdoor Man's relationship with Mr. Crosse."_

"Whatever could that be, my dear?"

_"Mr. Crosse _– _his blood is of the Type E Class", the knowledge of the nun strikes the Pope's intrigue. Sister Mary Victoria unfolds a document about Type E Blood. She recites the highlighted contents of her copy, adjusting her glasses to get a better glimpse of the fine print. "Amongst the Type E Class, there are three known bodies – the existences of earth, the existences of healing, and the existences of the feed. The most powerful of them being the Feed Existence – a power allowing vampires to slaughter other nightwalkers by draining them of their lifeblood en masse. 'Crusnik' is the name given to this breed of nightwalker, and they are feared by even the highest ranked members of the Church."_

"Do you believe the young man to be one of these 'Crusniks', my dear?"

"I'm afraid it may very well be true, your holiness", Sister Mary Victoria folds her document to a neat wrap, adjusting her reading glasses. "_His_ blood is positive, and the other existences are negative. I fear, if Mr. Crosse discovers his vampire blood, he'll _surely_ strengthen the fledgling's morale tenfold. He already has an alliance with Father Yuvraj, Lady Katherine and Brother Theodore. Imagine it, your holiness – the _potency_ of such a front with a Crusnik in their numbers… It'd _surely_ ruin us."

_The Pope's attention has been captured by this disturbing notion, leading him to take drastic measures._

"Very well, then. Give Backdoor Man these orders – 'capture the alleged Crusnik for brainwashing, and make sure that his body is left unharmed'. Sister Mary Victoria, I thank you for your report. I'm a busy man, my dear, so be off with you for now… Oh! Before the idea escapes me – happy birthday, my dear."

_The lovely vampire nun blushes and bows to the Pope, "I'm honored, your holiness. May God be with you."_

Sister Mary Victoria excuses herself from the Pope's office, closing the door on her way out.

_The Pope's hands have been shaking since the word "Crusnik" bled from the beautiful nun's lips._

"A Crusnik…" the word brings back horrible nightmares of the past, when he was attacked by a frightening dark figure that claimed to be of the species of killers. He remembers the man's face – a handsome Afro-British local that veiled his beastly clout with an enchanting smile. "…He even carries his surname – _Crosse_. If he truly is of Alexander Broaden Crosse's blood, then he'll probably be _just_ as fearsome once awakened… God help you if you fail us, Backdoor Man, for I will surely _kill you myself_ if you disappoint me!"

_The Pope's heart bothers him… Leonard holds onto his chest and calms his nerves. _

"Curse this blasted weak heart of mine", the Pope looks out his window to see the evening's red moon. In his heart, he knows that blood is doomed to shed under the crimson glow. Still, if it is for Count von Dracula's cause, everything done is for the preservation of the food chain…and the separation of the masses. "…Lord Valdo, my dearest friend, rest in assurance – the King and I will grant your dark desires, even if it means the death of us. I do wish you well, and I hope that you find peace in the days to come."

* * *

><p>"Ouch! Take it easy, ass wipe!" Stephen's suffered a few injuries from tonight's match against Morrison. They're minor flesh wounds, but injuries of this extent are rare in these bloody G–rated No Holds Barred matches. That can only mean one thing – Father John took out a bit of his anger on the poor little ginger. Our male nurse finishes fixing up my bud's wounds, excusing himself from my locker room. "That God-damned pretty boy and his horse legs – kicked the fucking <em>shit<em> out of me! I thought my career was going to be over!"

_"Well, you did take out Jaime Noble a few years back. It would've been karma working its magic, but I'm not cruel enough to point fingers at a gammy."_

_"I'm not lame, ya little–!" Stephen loses his patience, but his injured neck shuts him up._

_"Like I said, I'm not that cruel. Steve, you're in no condition to be raising your voice to me. The human body requires a little time to regenerate damaged bones and muscles. Do yourself some good and don't overexert your already banged up body. It'd piss the medical team off, having to deal with a menstruating Irishman."_

Normally, Stephen would angrily snap at me with something clever; however, this time…he's staring off into space with a serious glare.

"Steve…_why_ are you staring at me like that?"

"No reason, fella. I have to get out of here for a spell."

"Where are you rushing to?" Stephen stands to his feet, beaming me a wordless smile. Ignoring my question, he excuses himself from my locker room. "Stephen, where are you going? Stephen!"

"_Don't worry, fella. I'll be…'around the way'."_

_Around the way? What the devil is he talking about?_

My cellphone sounds from my jeans. I pull it out and see the touch screen reading my lover's name.

I take the call.

"How was the meeting, handsome?"

_"Quite good", he giggles._

"So, what did the C.O.O. say to you?"

_"I've been nominated for a promotion – 1 of 2 candidates. You're talking to who could very well be 'Executive of Creative Development & Operations', being that Mrs. Lévesque plans to leave the seat in a month."_

"_You?_ My boy could be _an executive officer_?" I'm so overjoyed that my heart feels as if it'll burst from its core. I feel like a child before a Christmas tree donned with presents. "That's _extraordinary_, love. I'm so _very_ proud of you, my little Sweets."

_"I'm on my way back to the hotel. How was work tonight, Daddy?"_

"I _hate_ my storyline… Cena just bitch-slapped me back to boarding school."

_"Oh, forgive the puppy-faced brute – he's just doing his job, following the script."_

"I miss being a champion, love", I confess with dissatisfied expression.

_"Don't you worry your head, dear. My opponent's résumé is lackluster compared to mine, and I've known Paul since I was a babe. I really care about that man, and I'd like nothing more than to help his business flourish. I hate to see Stephanie leave the seat, though. She's a talented and creative woman."_

_No she's not. The broad's reacting to a sexual advance I shot at her when I first set foot into this God-forsaken company. I've been sucking balls just to get a good storyline ever since, but I won't let that little fact escape my lips… Mistakes of the past can really make a man grow a set, as you can see._

"Stuart, are you still there?" Damien pulls his car into our hotel's parking lot, turning off the engine.

_"Oh, um, yes…" I snap out of my reflection in a little embarrassment. "…Forgive my spaciousness, love. I've had a pretty rough evening. As for Cena, I can very well forgive him. He's a good husband to Lizzie – an oddball of a bull-faced bastard, but still a good man all around."_

"I saw Stevie's match against JoMo", his voice bleeds with concern. "Is the sweetie all right? How bad are his injuries, dear?"

_"He seems to be fine. He left not a second before you called, acting as if he was all right… Still, he behaved quite strangely. Steve wasn't himself just now."_

"What do you mean, dear?"

_"As usual, we exchange light banter with each other. Stephen didn't react like he would to my words…and smiled at me. I asked him where he was rushing off to and he went on to say, 'I'll be around the way'. I know I'm probably sticking my nose in too deep, but I've a feeling about the ginger…and I don't like it."_

"Maybe he's found himself a girl", he titters an innocent guess.

_"No, Stephen would have a dame on his arm by now. You know how boastful that silly Irishman can be. The last time he had a lady, he was the loudest little wanker I ever did see – 'look at me sweet little sugar' and whatnot. His behavior was so soppy that I nearly threw up my lunch."_

"Oh, enough with that – you were piping happy for him", he giggles, humored by my sarcasm.

_A shadowy figure comes upon Damien's car, striking his attention._

_I can hear Damien's scream oscillating loudly! Some rumbling occurs that sets me into a state of fear, as if his bloody scream wasn't enough!_

_"Get away from me! Let me go!"_

_"Shut up!" commands the familiar voice._

_"Damien, what's going on?" my voice is heard from my boy's cellphone, and the attacker picks it up to humor himself. He puts the phone to his ear, allowing me to hear his laughter… I know who this bastard is. "Father John, you spineless little bitch! I'll have your head if you've hurt him!"_

_"You're in no position to threaten me…when I've got your 'boy' frozen in suspended animation. He was unlucky enough to get ensnared by Gates of Perception's spell. In other words – I'll kill him right now, if you don't listen to what I have to say."_

"_Out with it, then", I calm myself down and have a seat on my locker room bench._

_"Winifred Park, 11:30 PM – be there or your little piece of ass gets broken in half. Come alone – this's going to be a 1-on-1 match to the death… Want to wish your boyfriend well, Damien?"_

_"I hate you, John!" this bastard has made my boy cry. He doesn't know how deep he's just dug his own grave… No, that'd make Damien even more upset! Oh, damn it all! I'm treading neck-deep in this shitty situation. "I can't believe you would put your hands on me like that! I never want to speak to you again!"_

_"Aww, I made him cry", laughs the cruel-hearted clergyman, disturbingly halting his laughter with a pleased sigh. "Be there, Stuart. We'll be waiting for you. Later, bro."_

I look at my wristwatch on my way out, carrying my gym bag over my shoulders.

_10:59 PM – just a minute over half-an-hour from the meeting time._

I arrive to the rental car that I drove here, only to discover that my tires have been _slashed_ and the upper part of the vehicle has been _sliced completely off of its base in a straight line_. _Jesus!_ That fucker did _this_ to a rental car? _Oh, he's going to get it good! I'm going to pound his face in!_

_What the–?_ My body's _hovering_…? Oh, I see now…Paradise City is showing me how to get to my boy.

"_Very well, then. If this is the only way – let's go, Paradise City!"_

_I laterally extend my arms, causing my body to ascend into the grand starry sea._

_Winifred Park's south of here. I better not waste a single moment._

"There he goes, off to save the one that he loves", Stephen looks up to me from his rental car, beaming at the sight of my ascendance. He looks at his right hand, opening it up to look upon a red cross and moon pendant. He ticks his teeth, sarcastically huffing afterwards. "I don't even know _why_ I still have this piece of shit. I ain't down with the Church's cause anymore. Let some lowly bum have it."

_Stephen tosses his pendant to the back of his car, starts up his engine and puts his rental car in reverse._

_He runs over the pendant, cracking its wooden body in half. It's a small little trinket, so the cross doesn't damage his tires… The brutish Irishman takes off towards the south, beaming an excited leer._

"I haven't went toe-to-toe with a bloodsucker in two-hundred years", he fixes his special GPS radar, somehow programming it to lock-on to my bodily heat with infrared scanning. I'm already a mile and a half ahead of him, and he's arrogant enough to take a shocking guess. "Father John's existence is of _the B - Sight Category_. If my mind ain't leading me wrong, he wants Stuart to meet him at _Winifred Park's House of Mirrors_… Leave it to a pretty boy to want to have a catfight at a fucking amusement park. I ain't _nowhere_ near being homophobic, but this is some _'fierce and fruity bullshit'_."

_Stephen steps on the accelerator to keep up with my 70 MPH flight velocity._

* * *

><p>"Yay, cotton candy!" a child has just received a carnival treat, munching on his sugary delight with his elder brother at his side. His brother's girlfriend, a native beauty of Kingsley, clings to her lover's arm in awe of the child's hyperactivity. <em>"I wanna go on the rollercoaster, I wanna go on the rollercoaster – I wanna…!"<em>

The elder brother looks up to see the ride that he wants to go on – _an aerodynamic monster caller_ _"The Slayer"_. According to the laws that be, a little squirt like this hyperactive puppy is " far too young and too short" to ride on such a _wild_ rollercoaster.

"Sorry, Dylan. You're too little."

_"But I wanna go on the rollercoaster – I wanna, now…!"_

"No luck, little fellow", the caring elder brother pets the little tike on his head.

"Why not, huh?" little Dylan gives his elder brother _the dreaded puppy dog eyes._

The cool-headed young man's far too hip to his little brother's character. He silently thinks ,"it'll be a cold day in hell before I give in to those eyes", with an honest smile. The handsome English teen of mixed Hindu blood kneels before his little brother, petting him on his little head.

"It's the rules, man. Besides, you wouldn't want to get your future sister-in-law worried. Mum and Daddy are away in Aruba doing their honeymoon thing. It's my job to keep you safe until they get back… Here's an idea – let's go on the bumper cars."

"Yay, the bumpy cars!" the little tike holds onto his future sister-in-law's hand, pulling her towards the bumper cars in the distance. "Let's go, Alice! I wanna ride one with you!"

"Okay, slow down", the lovely lady of Kingsley giggles, enjoying her future kin's energy.

_He stands to his feet, proudly watching his future wife getting along with his little brother… The gentle sight allows him to realize something – he's picked the right woman to marry. Precious visualizations of their pending marriage cross his mental vision._

_("Yep…she's a keeper. Can't wait to jump the broom with her – she's a one-in-a-million type of lady.")_

_The young man hears something heavy gracing the skies, causing him to look up at the sight of a man – me, actually – flying to the southern parts of Winifred Park._

_("What the hell did I just see?") the young man scratches his head, believing himself to have gone mad._

"Lyle, this way!" his little brother's voice summons his presence.

"_Pipe down, Dylan Michael Lovett. I'm right behind you."_

* * *

><p><em>Stephen pulls his rental call into the parking lot across the street from the amusement park.<em>

He's releases a rough breath of irritation, disappointed that there would be people playing around on such a dangerous night. His blood begins to bother him, and his existence mentally drives him to adjust his rear-view mirror… He can see the image of several shadowy figures scurrying around like raccoons in the night.

_He can also smell that fresh lifeblood's just stained the ground._

_("I should've known – that bastard knew I'd follow Stu"), a briar of emerald thorns materializes onto his right arm. His briar's existence ability activates, causing a venomous olive green gas to spread within 20-meters of his vehicle. The result – several beastly creatures suffocate and choke to their deaths… When the last of them has met death's cold embrace, the poisonous gas thins into spare oxygen. Stephen aborts his car and looks down to see that the Church's sent lowly vampire hounds to attack the people. ("Dogs? Honestly, these jackasses were thinking of attacking me with T-Bones, Lassies, Old Yellers and Rovers? What a crock of bullshit!")_

_Stephen extends his arms laterally, being carried by the wind into the starry skies._

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, I've just touched down near the southernmost parts of Winifred Park.<p>

This area is considered "Old Winifred" – the place where not a lot of people commute due to "New Winifred's" up-to-date technology. The House of Mirrors is located on this side of the Park, wastefully neglected by the commuters in the newer parts. Such a shame… I actually like funhouses.

_"Come one, come all, and enjoy the mysteries of the amazing House of Mirrors!" the voice of Father John barks from the P.A. system built into the foundation of the funhouse. "You, young man, you look like you're up for the test. Your prize will be – I allow your piece of ass to live… Get in here, now."_

_("This fucker's calling me out"), I think to myself, stepping through the entrance to the funhouse. I remain quiet and discreet. This attraction doesn't have many cameras, but there're some that have been cleverly placed on one corner of the wall in each room, veiled by a two-sided mirror. My image becomes comically bizarre with each mirror that I pass, but I ignore the silly visualizations of myself with a stone face. ("I haven't the time for funny mirrors… I have to get my boy back, right now.")_

_My journey through the funhouse leads me to the center of the attraction – an oval cul-de-sac of mirrors the size of a quaint little country club._

Oh Lord, I've stumbled upon a dead end… Where's White Noise when you need him?

_**"****I'm not too far from you, bro"**__, well, speak of the devil._

_("How long have you been watching me?")_

_**"****Since you epically took off into the sky like a riches-to-rags Superman… And, from the looks of it, you've just merrily strolled into a can of whoop-ass."**_

_("Where're you going with that smart remark, my friend?")_

_**"****Did you even pay attention to Backdoor Man's existence – it's called 'Gates of Perception'. William Blake said it best – 'If the doors of perception were cleansed, man could see things as they truly are: infinite.' Think back to what happened to Lady Katherine and Brother Theodore… What was the first thing Father John did to Kat and the last thing that he did to Theo?"**_

_("The first thing he did to Kat…and the last thing he did to Theo?")_

_I was so caught up in the moment at the time, that I could only see red… Blast it all! What the devil did he do to them? For the love of God, why has that memory escaped my thoughts at such a critical moment?_

_**"****That's all I can tell you right now. You've got company knocking at your door. Remember, keep a cool head, Stu… Don't let this bastard outsmart you. Help's on the way, bro."**_

_("A million's worth of thanks to you, my friend. I think I know what to do now.")_

_**"****For your sake…you better hope that you're right."**_

_"And here's our lucky contestant – a pin-headed bastard whose only reason for being here is to make sure he doesn't wake up with blue balls in the morning", the mocking voice of the clergyman speaks using the funhouse's P.A. system, but his footsteps are sounding from behind me. I turn on my heel, greeting the robed image of the mad terrorist. John tosses the fiber optic microphone on his right ear to the ground, stomping it with a cruel right foot. "Congrats on reaching the center of the funhouse. I hope you like the little game we're playing."_

_"Enough with the formalities! Where's my boyfriend, Hennigan?"_

He smiles at me, humoring himself by looking at the ceiling.

_I do the same thing… And my eyes meet a frightening sight – my boyfriend hangs from an air-bound crucifix! Why that…disrespectful little–! What kind of blasphemous gutter trash is this?_

"And you call yourself 'a man of the cloth'?" I shoot the mad clergyman the most _terrifying_ glare a man's capable of – _the furious stone eye_. The stone eye is the look of a man who's been pushed to the limit… A man who's but a mere splitting hair's second from _killing_ another. "John, I've grown to respect you over the years, but I never – not for a split _second_ – would _ever_ think you to do something like this! Damien _loves_ _you_, goddamnit…and you'd do something like _this_ to him? Unforgivable!"

_"Are you angry with me, Stu? Upset? Pissed off? Good… I want you to be heated. Anger makes a fight to the death all the more…interesting."_

_His venomous smile is hot enough to melt a sheet of steel… His eyes are burning, and he seems ready for battle. Father John poises his hands in a diamond fashion before his eyes, beaming hysterically upon my image._

_**"****Open their eyes! Gates of Perception!"**__ the clergyman holds his arms laterally, summoning a watery territory from the mirrors surrounding us. The territory surrounds the entire area, locking us inside of what appears to be "his" Purgatory. Father John poises his hands in the original position, getting a full image of my solid frame. "You've gracefully walked into a trap. Gates of Perception will not allow you to leave this place, just as I won't let you leave with a beating heart."_

My stone eye remains, my lips do not part, and I stand perfectly still.

Father John titters in a fit of humor, "I thought you'd make the first move, Stuart! What's the matter – _did I get under your skin, lover boy_?"

_My stone eye remains, my lips do not part, and I stand perfectly…still._

Father John loses patience, becoming _more_ than furious – he's downright _livid_.

_"Why you smug little bitch! You dare to stand there and not answer me?"_

_Father John's poised hands illuminate with a crimson light._

_**"****Die! OPTIC SCREAM!"**__ the furious call sends forth a radiant ray of ionic plasma from his poised hands._

Oddly, the ionic plasma ray passes through me as if I were nothing more than a holographic projection. Father John is psyched by the unusual phenomenon, seeing it as practically impossible. The laws of physics forbids such an event from happening; thus, I should be dead right now… _Unfortunately, for him, my clock's still ticking._

_"Impossible! That was a perfectly accurate blast…" he receives his answer – my image fades away with the wind. The clergyman is psyched even more, now realizing what I've just done. "…Incredible! A flash step?"_

"Where are you looking, Hennigan?" my voice sounds from his rear, causing him to turn on his heel to a monstrous big boot to the chops! Due to my body being ten-times stronger than before, the impact of this simple attack sends him _rocketing_ back-first into the southernmost glass mirror. The mirror cracks with the length and width of his body, before he falls to his hands and knees in pain. The threading of his robes has slightly torn from the force delivered with my first attack. He bleeds from his mouth, shooting me an enraged glare. "That _had_ to hurt, old friend. Do yourself some good and stop this mindless charade."

_John gives me his answer – he rips the drapery of his robes from his body, revealing his solid boyish figure, his finely woven slacks, and his name brand leather Stacy Adams._

Without warning, the mad clergyman proves his dexterity and speed as a force to be reckoned with – he bounds forth into a blinding execution of precise kicks! It's amazing to me, how he's able to move faster than any man I've ever faced in my entire life! Father John's close-range skill…is _lethal_!

"To hell with you!" Father John tosses his hind right leg into a roundhouse strong enough to shatter a man's ribcage; however, something _miraculous_ happens to my senses.

_It appears as if his body has somehow slowed down, and I'm capable of seeing where he's aiming his limb._

Acting on instinct, I perform an ingenious counterattack – I grab onto his flying right leg with my left arm, throttle him with my right hand, and brutally toss him over my hip to the ground! I savagely mount him, pummeling his face with reflexes I've never seen before in my entire life… My fists make impact with his pretty little face _millionths_ of a second apart from the next punch.

But that all changes…when he grabs onto my cupped, hammering fists.

_"I've caught you!" a flash of ionic plasma light bursts from his frame, repulsing me several feet away from his floored body. Father John flips to his feet, leaps high into the air and gracefully performs a polished corkscrew spin. The mad clergyman uncurls his body, descending towards me with a burning glare. "Nice little counter, Stu! Let's see if you can escape this! __**OPTIC HURRICANE!**__"_

_The mirrors around the room release perfectly concentrated lasers of ionic plasma, all of which are aimed directly at my body! I panic, covering my eyes for the blow that's sure to end my life; however, something goes wrong… I haven't been hit?_

I open my eyes, looking up to see the most…_interesting_ turns of events.

"_GAAH!" Father John has been intercepted by a flying dropkick…from Stephen?_

My flame-haired hero swings from briars of emerald thorns attached to his arms with the greatest of ease, sending the surprised clergyman _rocketing_ away! Father John coils his body, allowing him to adjust his flight to a gentle descending to the ground… Now on his feet, the mad clergyman looks forward to see the daring Irishman lowering himself to the floor using his briars.

"Good evening, Hennigan", greets the ginger with tooth and cheek expression, as his briars fade back into his unknown existence. Stephen cracks his hungry knuckles, ready to bury his fists in the clergyman's skull. "You've been ringing up my phone for an ass-whooping, fella. That ain't fair – getting rough with a newbie like that."

_"Why the __**hell**__ are you here, traitor?" the mad clergyman's eyes burn with hatred. "This is a private fight – a 1-on-1 between the fledgling and me! You've no right to interfere, old man!"_

_Wait a second… Did he just call him a traitor? And did he just say…"old man"?_

"Traitor? Old man, you say? I can take the 'old man' comment, but Father John Hennigan… _you've got a lot of nerve calling me a traitor_… It's funny – White Noise told me where you'd be, and I doubted the old fool. But, oh well, I'm _here_ now… And, I've got someone to apologize to _before_ I bitch-whip you back to your powder room."

_Stephen looks over his shoulder at me, showing me the sentimental ocean of his eyes._

"Stu…I'm sorry for lying to you, fella. It ain't like a _real_ man to go about keeping secrets and telling lies about himself to others, especially to his best friend… Will you forgive me, bud?"

_"Stephen…who are you?" my heart beats roughly, contemplating his next set of words._

_"I'm your grandfather's best man – Father Paddington O'Shay, the Briars of Green Day"_, my entire body freezes, _never_ expecting my favorite ginger bud to be… _Father Paddington_. Stephen laughs at how _surprised_ my expressions are, mocking me as he always does. "_Ha!_ That face's worth about 1, 000, 000 likes on Facebook! Calm yourself, fella… This old man's got some unfinished business to take care of…with a certain _hotheaded_ _fag_ who tried to end my career tonight. Isn't that right…_JoMo?_"

_Stephen – I mean, Father Paddington – shoots Father John a burning, bloodthirsty stare._

The mad clergyman stands to his feet, ready to finish the job he started in the live recording at _Sarah J. Kingsley Amphitheater's arena_. The fabled best man holds his hands to his side in a provoking manner, tilts his head and shines his pearly white fangs at the prejudice bloodsucker.

_"Come on, fella. Why not take a shot at a seasoned veteran for a spell?"_

_"More than happy to, traitor", Father John is fired up for mortal combat._

_My word! I can't believe what I'm seeing here._

_Stephen…is Father Paddington? Seriously?_

_And my lover's hanging from a crucifix above our heads… So many climactic happenings in one measly night – it's enough to drive a man insane. One thing's for certain: if nothing else, this has truly been one hell of an exciting night._

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme - "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Up Next: Chapter 4 - Broken Dreams)<strong>_


	5. Chapter 4: Broken Dreams

**_BLOOD/Night_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Opening Theme - "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<em>**

* * *

><p><em>So many extraordinary revelations have transpired this week.<em>

_First, I've discovered that I'm of vampire lineage. I've discovered that I – a normal working man in the wrestling entertainment business – am a half-bred dhampir of blood relation to the fabled Lord Frederic von Alucard. Yes, the legendary hero of "the Romance of the Tainted Rose" epic…is my ancestor … I was introduced to the Church of the Red Rose, or so I thought, at the hands of a fellow co-worker of mine… Yuvraj Dhesi – recognized as "Jinder Mahal" by the WWE Universe. He was revealed to be working for the fabled radical alliance "Infinity", and was sent to me under orders of "White Noise" – a faceless, foul-mouthed Scottish informant whom I've grown to respect…more or less._

_Afterwards, the Church really made its move – the first opposing force being…of all people…John Hennigan – revered as "John Morrison" by the WWE Universe. This mad clergyman befriended us in the past, and veiled his ulterior motives with brotherly love and affection, especially towards my boy – Damien Crosse, my manager and the love of my life. In an attempt to instill angst in his target, Father John attacked Damien, Natalie, Theodore and I on-route to Kingsley. He placed Natalie and Theodore into unconsciousness, leaving a mournful stain in Damien's heart…and ripping himself of our trust. Father Yuvraj arrived soon thereafter, healed his fellow Canadian wrestlers…and fellow Infinity members._

_Yes, the truth was revealed about our close friends: Natalie is the legendary former Queen of Rutherford, Lady Katherine MacArthur; Theodore – a dhampir Infinity agent, Alias: "Brother Theodore D'Zirconia"… A half-bred Adonis that the former Queen raised as her devoted apprentice and lover._

_A few hours later, an illegal human trade at the docks near Sarah Kingsley Beach was shut down by a 1-man army – a high-ranked Infinity agent, Codename: Moonlight Mile. Proving the merciless might of his existence – a ghastly phantasm called "Sticky Fingers" – Moonlight Mile slaughtered the nightwalker laborers working under the dual supervision of the Red Moon Union and the dreaded vampire wharf master Cry Baby. Cry Baby was proven to be nothing more than what his name implies – a "crybaby" – as he too fell to Sticky Fingers' destructive force._

_Moonlight Mile was recognized by an underage worker as someone who works for the WWE. Flattered and with pity for the dockhands, Moonlight Mile left his calling card and did leave the area. The illegal trade's end troubled the Church, being reported by the fabled White Album himself. Of course, Pope Leonard de Bleus – revered as "Moody Blues" to all nightwalkers – was dismayed by this… The old bloodsucker almost caught a heart attack because of it._

_Their conversation was cut short by a reporting daughter of the Church – a lovely Afro-British nun named Sister Mary Victoria – who arrived with disturbing news. Of course, I'm not aware of the news right now, but I'm soon to find this out myself… Damien has Type E + Blood, which is compatible to a very nightmarish creature called "The Crusnik" – a vampire that gains unimaginable power by sucking the blood of other vampires._

_Pope Leonard was reminded of nightmares of the past, when he met a Crusnik with the same surname as my boy, and was prostrated before the monster's overwhelming supernatural muscle. Pope Leonard's fear set him into a cowardly state, and he promised to take Father John Hennigan – Codename: Backdoor Man – out of his misery if he failed at his objectives._

_Things soon became more than peculiar for me._

_After Stephen's match with Morrison at the Sarah J. Kingsley Amphitheater, he was left with a few wounds. Patched up by a kind male nurse, he started to let out his frustration… But then, Stephen behaved quite unlike himself – he smiled, leaving me with the words, "I'll be around the way". I reported the incident to my boy, who arrived to the local hotel from a meeting with C.O.O. Paul Lévesque about a promotion, and he brushed the situation off as the Irishman probably finding a significant other… I wasn't as dismissive._

_In the middle of our conversation, however…Father John violently abducts Damien for ransom, and challenges me to a 1-on-1 deathmatch at Winifred Park. Paradise City, my existence of the sun, led me to the House of Mirrors in the southernmost part of the fairground… Father John invited me to his game of death with provocative words._

_I arrived to a cul-de-sac of mirrors, where White Noise mentally visited me again._

_The faceless informant gave me clues about how to defeat Father John Hennigan, using an excerpt from Alvin Huxley's book "The Gates of Perception" – the name given to Father John's existence. The quote: "If the gates of perception were cleansed, man could see things as they truly are: infinite."_

_"My eyes were opened", so to speak. I did engage in mortal combat with Father John, doing my very best to psyche him out by visually confusing and astounding him. It worked twice, but the clergyman's multi-ranged assault outmatched my unpolished brawn…or so I thought._

_As if finding my boy blasphemously hanging from a crucifix wasn't shocking enough, the hero that came to my rescue – his unveiled identity took my breath away._

_After dealing with a few vampire hounds in the parking lot, Stephen rescued me and revealed himself to be… the legendary Father Paddington O'Shay – a high-ranked Infinity agent, Codename: Green Day Briars._

_Animosity intensely burned between Father Paddington and Father John, but my favorite ginger bud showed more sarcasm than anger…as usual. Father John's hatred for the seasoned, war-polished veteran is nothing short from consuming. The 1-on-1 battle that Father John started…is about to get ugly. From what I've seen, Father Paddington's mysterious existence – a briar of emerald thorns – is a pretty nifty little number…_

_One thing's for certain: Father John's about to get what's coming to him._

_Father Paddington proceeds with challenging cynicism._

_"Come on, fella. Why not take a shot at a seasoned veteran for a spell?"_

_"More than happy to, traitor", Father John growls with resentment._

_Their burning eyes could very well melt the icy giants of the South Pole's unforgiving tundra._

_The battle continues with a vengeance, for Father Paddington plans to break the man that attempted to blow his cover and end his career in the WWE._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 4 - <strong>**Broken Dreams**_

* * *

><p><em>Natalie and Theodore have travelled to the Rosenkreuz Hotel, where my boy and I were supposed to be waiting for them. Theodore approaches registration to make an inquiry.<em>

"Excuse me, ma'am."

"Yes, what can I help you with this evening?" TJ catches the attention of a friendly female clerk.

"I need to know if someone's checked in here. We were supposed to meet up with two people."

"What are their names, sir?" the clerk begins looking through the hotel's database.

"Stuart Bennett and Damien Crosse – they're our travelling partners. We work for the WWE."

"Stuart Bennett…Damien Crosse…" the female clerk fills in the given information, but the database gives her negative results. Her voice is very apologetic. "…Oh, I'm sorry. They haven't checked-in yet, sir."

_Natalie's eyes peer away from the issue of BEAUTY Magazine that she reads, disturbed by what she's heard, looking directly at registration._

_Natalie puts down her magazine and approaches the desk, ("That **has** to be wrong – Damien called me when he left from the meeting with Paul. What's going on here?")_

Nattie stands at TJ's right side, extending her uneasiness.

"TJ, Damien left the restaurant and came here", her boyfriend gives her a confused expression. "I know, I'm like that too – I don't know _what_ to think right–…"

_Nattie sees something on the wall that makes her heart skip a beat. TJ turns around and sees the same thing – there's a red cross and moon symbol on the wall… The name "Rosenkreuz" means "Rose Cross" in the German language. The symbol on the wall, though modified to hide its true form, is actually an altered version of the Church's "Scarlet Lunar Cross"… This hotel **belongs** to the Church, which would explain why Father John was able to find Damien so easily._

"Babes…I _think_ we've just walked into a trap", TJ's guess is proven to be quite accurate, as several female staff members surround the couple with burning eyes. Nattie looks at the registration clerk, receiving a burning glare of bloodlust. "I guess this explains _why_ the guys never 'checked-in' – they were _'checked-out'_ before they even got to registration."

_"The half-breed never came here…" the registration clerk steps from behind the desk, standing in the midst of her fellow clergywomen. "…his cute little boy, however – taken as the perfect bait to lure the abomination to a private rendezvous with Father John."_

_Natalie's blood begins to boil with anger; the same goes for Theodore._

"…Tell us where the rendezvous point is", demands the former Queen of Rutherford, her head lowered with simmering wrath. The cackling clergywomen mocks the integrity of the Infinity agents. "I guess you _little_ _groupies_ don't understand the seriousness of this, so let give you 'the remix'. Tell us where the rendezvous point is…_or you're all **'fired'**, if you know what I mean_."

The former queen and her apprentice lover allow the clergywomen to gaze into the furious ocean of their burning eyes – a look _terrifying_ enough to give the devil a panic attack.

The clergywomen remain confident.

_"You think you can stop us?", laughs one of the seven assailants._

_"You're outnumbered, traitors", points another._

_"We're going to eat you alive", another licks her hungry fangs, tittering with her fellow clergywomen._

"Babes, I don't hit women", Natalie smiles at her boyfriend, admiring his gentleman-like behavior.

"It's all right, TJ – let _me_ handle this", Natalie crosses her arms above her head, causing the clergywomen to become a bit antsy. **_"Burn the masses! Wild Orchid!"_**

_Natalie brings her arms down, and a watery territory of crimson air pressure spreads from her body. Wild Orchid's territory causes the humidity level of the hotel to increase… The clergywomen begin to perspire, but things soon become worse for them._

"Damn it! It's too hot!" the clergywomen are beginning to develop burns on their skin that worsen as time progresses. They try to escape the former queen's territory, but Natalie refuses to let them leave – Wild Orchid has trapped the seven bloodsuckers inside of its 150-meter expansion area. The bodies of the clergywomen begin giving in to the heat, collapsing from fatal heat exhaustion and terminal burns. _"Damn you…Infinity…scum…"_

_The clergywomen have fallen, giving the former queen the cue to deactivate her territory._

After Wild Orchid has seeped back into her existence, the beautiful Natalie pats the dust from her hands in a mode of confidence. "Honestly, they never had a chance", TJ, who remains unharmed by his girlfriend's territory, is slightly confused by all of this. The clergywomen were killed by the territory's increased humidity, but he doesn't have a scratch on him. "Wild Orchid's_ Fever Bind_ increases the humidity within my territory from normal room temperature to 5000-degrees within 2 minutes. I can protect others – solo or en masse – by keeping them incased inside of shells of cooled vapor set at precisely 75-degrees, so try not to be so surprised by my talents. I'm a war veteran that's over 900 years old, TJ."

Natalie's wisdom and seasoned know-how has highly impressed her half-bred lover.

_"That's…a pretty amazing existence you've got there, Babes."_

"If you think _I'm_ impressive, wait until you see Stuart's Paradise City in full bloom", the beautiful diva begins exiting the hotel to leave the death scene. "Let's get out of here. The Church will be here to check up on things by 1:00 AM, so let's hurry to the rendezvous point."

_TJ follows his beautiful girlfriend to their rental car._

Theodore's curiosity gets the best of him.

_"Nattie, how can you know where to find them without any leads? You didn't even get an answer from the clergywomen, Babes… I don't get it."_

"Wild Orchid's secondary _Scan_ ability allowed me to see into the memories of those stink-faced vampire bimbos", Natalie takes the driver's seat, knowing the precise location of the rendezvous point. TJ takes the passenger's seat, buckling up for the chase to come. Natalie cranks the ignition and starts the car. "Hang on, TJ… I'm about to break about _every_ traffic law known to mankind."

TJ swallows a hard chunk of his saliva, silently praying to God that they make it to their destination in one piece… Natalie shifts the rental car into "drive mode", stepping on the accelerator like a mad woman. She hits the gas so _hard_ that the vehicle starts with a screeching of its tires – skid marks decorate the pavement, as the rental car speeds off into the night.

* * *

><p><strong><em>"OPTIC SCREAM!"<em>**_ the battle between Father John and Father Paddington has reached a fatal level of intensity. Father Paddington exhibits his expertise with evasive tactics, ducking and dodging every blast of ionic plasma cast from the bloodthirsty Backdoor Man's diamond-poised hands. The seasoned veteran's expertise sets Father John in a fit of anger and irritation. "Damn you! Stay your ground!"_

The Irish nightwalker's sarcasm pinches away at Father John's patience.

_"Is that what you call fighting, fella? I've seen newborns with more balls than you!"_

_"Shut up! **OPTIC SCREAM CASCADE!**" the infuriated clergyman extends his diamond-poised hands forward, releasing a volley of ionic plasma spheres at the nimble Infinity agent._

Father Paddington laterally extends his arms, allowing the air to safely carry him above and over the cascade of ionic plasma spheres.

_"Wow! Melina was right about you – you really **do** 'shoot fast', fella", teases the cocky Irish nightwalker, dancing above the ionic volley with the greatest of ease._

Father Paddington's trash talk about his love life sends the clergyman into a loss of patience.

_"I've had enough of you – absolutely enough of you!" Father Paddington surfaces his feet onto the ground, feeling and seeing the entire funhouse quaking with the disturbance of the natural order. "This next attack will be the last thing that you see…before you meet death's cold embrace!"_

I look around, unable to move from where I stand. The force of gravity has me pinned to the ground. It's unnatural – to be unable to move a _single_ _muscle_ in such a situation. Father Paddington, on the other hand, appears to be perfectly fine with what's going on… The Infinity agent turns on his heel, facing the empowering clergyman with a tooth and cheek expression of amusement.

_"No man has ever survived this – the full emergence of my existence", Father John quickly turns on his heel, facing the Irish nightwalker with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Father Paddington taunts the clergyman by mock-picking a little wax from his clean ears, making it seem as if the clergyman's a bore to him. Father John smiles, confident that this technique will destroy the fabled legend for good. **"Perish! 100% OPTIC HURRICANE!"**_

_Concentrating the full extent of his existence, Father John unleashes a massive concussion blast from every reflective object in the cul-de-sac of mirrors! God Lord, he's gone insane! We're done for!_

I close my eyes, fearing the untimely end of _everyone_ in the funhouse… But then, another miracle occurs.

**_"Rot to the core! Green Day!"_**_ Father Paddington activates his existence at the last second, summoning emerald thorn briars from random rifts in the atmosphere. The thorns attract the ionic plasma energy en masse, causing the 100% Optic Hurricane to be diminished to frail whispers of its once fearsome composition. Father John is psyched out by Father Paddington's seasoned skill, and beholds the mocking smile of the confident Irishman. "If that's your strongest attack, I wonder how **pathetic** your weakest one is!"_

Father Paddington's voice washes away my anxiety, and my eyes are opened to the truth.

Somehow, some way, Father Paddington's existence has spread within a 300-meter radius of the entire funhouse in just thousandths of a second's timing… In the process, he's eliminated any chance of victory for his opponent, barely lifting as much as a finger to Father John. Exhibiting such monumental speed and reflexes in combat has _really_ gotten into Backdoor Man's head – the clergyman's bodily petrification and lowering hands signal his mental conceding.

_"You're…a monster!" Father John's voice distressfully shudders._

The clergyman's fear tickles the Irishman to a beam of confidence, flashing his polished chops. The legend approaches the cowering Backdoor Man, psychologically leveling the pretty-faced killer with weakened knees. Father John stumbles onto his bottom, backing away from the sight of Green Day materializing onto his assailant's right forearm… Father Paddington then goes on to prove his laidback nature.

_He deactivates Green Day and holds out his right hand to the killer, chuckling just a bit._

"No shit, fella. I'm a vampire; an old, war-tough, arrogant son-of-a-bitch bloodsucker. What did you expect – _a walk in the park_?"

Father John's expressions switch from scared to _confused_.

"Come on, JoMo", the legend receives the clergyman's hand, helping him to his feet. The handsome nightwalker takes a step back in uneasiness, pulling his hand out of the fabled best man's grasp. Father Paddington is tickled by John's anxiety. "_Ha!_ What's wrong with _you_, fella? Afraid to give an old man a handshake, now?"

_"What – you weren't going to kill me from the start?"_

"I ain't having Damien get mad at me for you, pretty boy. Oh, and sorry about pointing me fingers at you and your girlfriend… Funny – I thought men of the cloth promised to live a life of celibacy… Whatever happened to _that_, _'Father'_ John Hennigan?"

_"Well…um…" the clergyman's pale white skin turns beet red in a blush._

"Too good to hold in your wood, right?" Father John's confusion becomes a fit of bashfulness. The Irish legend looks up and sees my unconscious lover still hanging from the air-bound blood red crucifix, being bothered by its abominated image. "Now _why_ did you have to go and do that to the little kitten? Let him down, will ya?"

_Father John obliges Father Paddington's request, snapping his right set of fingers to activate a distant control panel using a secondary remote function of his existence._

Just a few meters away from the cul-de-sac's entrance, there's a trap door that leads to an underground control room. Inside of this control room, there's a panel that operates the entirety of the funhouse's comical goodies – mirror lens modification, hidden cameras, audio, lighting and the P.A. system amongst other things. Having memorized every button and lever, Father John's Gates of Perception surrounds a handle with ionic plasma. The energized handle pulls back, activating the red crucifix.

_The air-bound cross lowers to the ground, low enough for Father John to unshackle the man that he's betrayed for the sake of Count von Dracula's cause._

I stand to my feet, beholding the unconscious angel falling into Father John's arms.

The chastened man of the cloth lowers my lover's body to his back, allowing Damien to rest in his lap… My boy – he's all right. I have to go see him.

"Stay back, Stu", Father Paddington forbids me to proceed with his left arm.

"What are you doing? Let me go, Father Paddington. I want to see my boy."

"John should be the first one that Damien sees, not you. You didn't break his heart… And don't call me that. You know me as "Stephen", so call me "Stephen"…not Father Paddington. I'm not big on monikers, but I'm a _bitch-and-a-half_ when it comes to sudden changes."

I guess he's right about that notion. Looking at Damien's awakening body, his eyes slowly opening to John's weeping face, I can sense heartbreak tainting the air.

_"Johnny…why did you hurt me?" Damien's mind seems to still be in a weakened state._

_"I'm sorry, DC… I thought that I was doing God's Will, but I was walking around blinded by the Pope's sweet words. I've done nothing tonight but break your heart and fail my mission. The Pope will surely kill me if I return to the Church tonight… I don't have anywhere to go, now that I've surrendered to the enemy's might. Help me, Damien – let me stay with you. Please, DC? I'm…all on my own, now."_

Hennigan could win an Academy Award with that cheesy performance. He's so pitiful – _a homeless dog whining and yelping in shame._ Still… I'm happy to see that Damien's not crying anymore. Now, he appears to be _more_ than happy – my boy's downright delighted.

_"Johnny…your eyes…are bleeding. Why?"_

_"Vampires can't cry", the clergyman wipes the tears of blood from his face._

_"You can't cry? Why not?"_

_"We're alive, yet we're not alive. We're everywhere…and we're nowhere. We are the living undead beasts of the night; therefore, our bodies can't produce normal tears. That is why it's rare to see a vampire cry – our eyes release excess blood instead of clear fluids."_

_"Then, allow me… to keep you smiling…Johnny", Father John embraces my lover, holding back his relieved tears with closed eyes. The gentle angel places his hand onto the weeping vampire's head, lightly patting Father John's silky mane. "There, there… it's all right, Johnny… I knew you'd come to your senses. You're…too kind…to truly be evil… Melina didn't go wrong…picking you as her boyfriend. She is but another human woman…who's been swayed by a child of the night… Tell me – how many months is she?"_

_How many months? You don't mean to tell me that… He did it, didn't he?_

"She's five months pregnant", Father John wipes his bloody tears away, proud that he's soon to be the father of a bouncing half-bred baby boy. "I tried to hold onto the Church's trust until our child was born, but it looks like _that's_ not going to happen. Very well, then…I hereby _resign_ my ranks as a clergyman. Not for myself, not for Mel – for my unborn son, _James Embry Hennigan_."

_"James Hennigan – such a handsome name, just like his father. Funny – if he becomes a wrestler like you, he may keep your image and become 'Jim Morrison'."_

_"Over my dead body", Hennigan ticks his teeth with fatherly stubbornness._

_"But you're already dead, ya bum-suck", laughs Stephen with a humored leer._

_"I know. Isn't it wonderful?"_

_"You're such a smartass", the two bloodsuckers share their like humor, and I let loose a little giggle of my own. That was pretty clever – John, a child of the night, says he'll let his son wrestle when he's expired and the bloke's not even alive in a sense. So, in other words, he's implying that he'll allow his son to compete in the near future. "If we live through this, long enough to see to see the lad wrestle, we'll teach him everything that we know. You've got friends now, man. Welcome to the group, Father John Hennigan."_

Father John helps Damien stand to his feet, gently cradling my boy with his left arm.

_"Don't call me that anymore – that's my Church name", the clergyman is opening up to us, humbly taking the offer extended to him. "From now on, drop the 'Father' bid and just call me 'John' or any of my nicknames… If you guys can do that for me, then you've got yourself an ally."_

Stephen turns on his heel to look at me, "What do you say, Stu – is the fella in or out?"

I hold in my words, and approach John with a stone-like stare.

Coming to a halt in front of the pretty-faced rebel, I extend my right hand to him. We shake hands like proper gentleman, bringing an end to the bad blood between us. My gesture of friendship makes my boy glow with overwhelming delight.

"I could never make my boy cry, John. You're welcome with us, just like before."

"Oh, thank you so very much, Daddy", Damien clings to John's hip like a spoiled child.

"You see, John? You've made my boy quite a good brother figure with your kind ways. Though your actions were meant for the good of the Church, you've unintentionally allowed yourself to be pulled into his heart. Being the understanding fellow that I am, I said to myself, 'Who am I to break two brothers apart from one another?' A lover, a worker, a competitive soul…but most of all…a man… And a man knows when to back off. Saddle up, John – you'll be leaving with us come 6:30 in the morning… _And how long are you going to watch us from the darkness?_"

_The lot of us turns on our heel to look towards a mirror to the east._

Two people emerge from the mirror, which is revealed to be a door to the fifth room of the funhouse.

_Natalie and Theodore have arrived._

"Q-Q-Queen Katherine!" John prostrates himself before the founder of Infinity, humbly paying reverence to the beautiful lady of legends. Natalie is flattered to still receive such respect. "Forgive me, your excellency. I've been deceived by Pope Leonard, and I humble myself before your mercies… I've changed my ways and my visions have been completely modified. If you will have me, I will _gladly_ lend my powers to exact your righteous cause."

"JoMo, stop kissing my ass – we've been cool since day 1", Father John stands to receive a big hug from the former vampire queen. "Congratulations. You're going to be a _great_ dad, John."

"We would've got here sooner, but _someone_ got pulled over for speeding", Natalie's face becomes dark with mortification, hearing her lover call her out.

_"Queen Katherine, you, of all people – breaking the speed limit?" Stephen bursts into gut-bursting laughter. "What were you gunning for, a medal?"_

The offended vampiress shoots Stephen a burning-eyed glare.

_"I came here to help you, you snow-white cum fart!" snaps the beautiful vampiress._

Natalie calms down, turns her back to the laughing Irishman and calls _him_ out.

"Stu, why don't you knock Steve out already? _He_ was the one who ruined your rental car, after all."

_What did she just say? It was… Oh, why that little–! Of all the nerve–!_

Stephen attempts to tip-toe out of the cul-de-sac in silence.

_I turn to the sneaky Irishman, freezing him in his tracks, "Freeze, Stephen!"_

The mischievous flame-haired bastard trips flat onto his face in a panic, as I give him the dreaded stone eye. My fists ache to be buried in his jaws – I crack my knuckles to relieve myself of the itch.

"You've got a lot of nerve committing such crimes, ginger boy… Be a good sport and take your _beating_ like a man. I don't like to needlessly run around."

"It was for training, Stu", the guilty stands to his feet in an attempt to call me down. I begin walking towards him, and he backs away with every intimidating step I make. "That was the only way to make you learn how to master air manipulation. You've got to believe me – I hadn't a single bad intention with this, fella."

_"Training? No bad intentions, you say? **Well, your bloody 'good intentions' steered in the wrong the direction, when you vandalized my rental car and left me with a huge damage fee, you pale-faced retard! Get over here, now!**"_

_"Oh mercies!" Stephen takes off towards the entrance of the funhouse._

_"Damn you! Take it like a man!" I chase after the fleeing troublemaker at top-speed._

Everyone but Damien is _astounded_ to an embarrassed ogle. Natalie, Theodore and John haven't seen the two of us in that state… Funny sight, isn't it? _Me_ – chasing down a big fellow like Stephen? _That_ scene would win "Best Comedic Chase" at a major movie award's showcase. Wouldn't you agree?

"So, Stevie's the _legendary_ Father Paddington after all", Damien's realization awakens our friends from their shared mood, attracting their attention. "I always wondered why his skin felt so cold, and why I was never able to hear his heartbeat when I hugged him… He's a mischievous old fart, but he actually makes Daddy come alive. That really makes me feel…_happy_."

The group grows inquisitive about my boy's affectionate tone. John speaks up about it.

_"Little bro, how did you–?"_

"I was able to hear the commotion when I was knocked out. Don't worry about those two – I voluntarily paid the damage fee on that car, so Stuart doesn't have to spend another penny. Right now, _despite_ how angry he may look on the outside…Daddy's just playing around with Stevie… They're enjoying each other's company, just like best friends should."

_My boy's right about that… Stephen and I have a very peculiar friendship._

We're the type to do mischievous things to purposely get under each other's skin. Afterwards, we cause a scene and begin play-fighting with one another. We're loud, obnoxious, beer-drinking, foul-mouthed bastards… And we'd never want to be apart from each other for long.

_Stephen's like a brother to me – the feeling is mutual. Still…he's not leaving without a few socks to his razor-sharp chops._

"Slow down, Stephen!"

"Not on your life!" Stephen jumps over the ramp at the funhouse's entrance.

I do the same, continuing to chase him down in joyful ire. Finding pleasure in this, I continue to mock him with my impressively sharp tongue.

_"What's the matter, bloodsucker? Have you grown to be a sissy over the past century?"_

_"Bite on cow shit – I ain't getting knocked-out by you, ya duck-faced jackal!"_

_"I ain't getting knocked-out, nyah-nyah-nyah!" I lighten my voice to a girlish whining to tease at his masculinity. "Bite on cow shit, nyah-nyah-boo-hoo-nyah!"_

_"I don't talk like that, ya jackass!" Stephen finally grows a set, slides to a turn on his heel and leaps at me like a fierce lion. After being tackled to the ground, we begin wrestling on the dirty pavement. Our friends arrive out of the funhouse to see how childish we're acting. "How dare you make me sound like some little queer!"_

_"I couldn't tell the difference, fairy queen!"_

_"Pin-head!" he barks._

_"Jackass!" I sharply retort._

_"Sausage princess!"_

_"Nightrider!"_

_"Hammerhead!"_

_"Needle prick!"_

_"Cum guzzler!"_

_"Shit lips!" and our little squabble rages on and on and on, but it all ends when we knock each other out with identical right straights. Together, we write in the pain of our swelling bruises. "Ouch! Damn it to hell! Ow…!"_

_"Ow…! You little smoked up fag, I should–…" I am silenced by the sound of laughter._

Our friends are laughing at how silly we look.

Damien, on the other hand, is elated by our brutish togetherness. Times like this, my boy knows that I'm in top-notch form…and that I'm happy. I was worried about Stephen earlier, but knowing the truth makes me feel a lot better. I guess I got out a little of the frustration that worry made me feel by shining-up his left eye.

"Stu…you're all right, fella", he giggles.

"Yes, Steve…I feel the same…_asshole_."

"Look who's talking", we stand up and embrace each other like loving brothers.

The others approach us, and we look to them with delighted smiles.

"Everyone, let's get out of here", my words spark a nod of approval from our friends and a warm hug from my boy. I look down to Damien and gently press his head against my chest. "It's been a long night. Let's go and get some rest, love."

"Okay, Daddy", smiles my cute little boy.

* * *

><p>The Pope has heard word of John's failure, and the news has upset him to the point that he must phone the vampire king, Henry of Aldington. Leonard holds the conversation from his office, while the King rests in the comfort of his royal chamber.<p>

_"What troubles you, my friend?" King Henry's voice is filled with concern._

_"Henry, Backdoor Man has failed us. A security recording was sent to me through E-mail – I saw everything that transpired during the battle."_

_"Do share your report with me, Leonard."_

_"That God-damned Paddington!" the mentioning of the former holy man's name sends chills down Henry's spine. Stephen is a man feared by the Church, just like that of Christopher. "That traitor – he somehow managed to make Backdoor Man turn his coat on the Church… What's more, Father John Hennigan has been revealed to be a heretic! He's desecrated our tenets of faith by seeding the egg of a human wo–!"_

Pope Leonard's heart bothers him, striking the King's apprehension.

_"May you be at ease, Leonard. Calm yourself, old friend."_

_"Those aren't the last of my concerns", the Pope has managed to calm his heart to a normal rate. The words that he speaks next rally the King's angst. "The fledgling's lover – an Afro-British gentleman named Damien Isaiah Crosse. Yesterday evening, a daughter of the Church, Sister Mary Victoria, reported something dreadful concerning the alleged Mr. Crosse. The report has greatly disquieted the masses."_

_"What is it, Leonard?"_

_"The alleged Mr. Crosse…has Type E + Blood. That would mean…he's one of 'them', Henry."_

_"Good Lord! He's a Crusnik?" the King's voice heightens with anxiety._

_"The very thought of him having 'that surname' – Crosse – it sends chills through every bone in my body, Henry… Lest you forget him – Alexander Broaden Crosse the Eater of Nightwalkers. That 1-man army killed **thousands** of our kind with his dreaded existence, **Robber Soul**."_

_Robber Soul_ – a Type E + Existence with the power to feast upon souls through consumption of the target's lifeblood. The result: _unimaginable, destructive, nightmarish power._

Feared as the _strongest_ of all existence users, Alexander Crosse – a Master Crusnik – is heard to perform nightmarish feats with his overwhelming supernatural muscle. Human, half-breed, full-blooded vampire – all who've stood before him with cruel intentions have either been killed…or sent _running_ with overwhelming angst bleeding from their terrified screams. The notion of Damien allegedly being of this cannibalistic Crusnik's blood has set the entire Church into a precautionary upset.

_"This young man could be of **his** blood? Backdoor Man **failed** to capture such a potentially dangerous being? Not only that – he broke his oath of celibacy for a lowly human broad? **Unforgivable!** Have him hunted and put to death, Leonard! Such insolence is considered worthy of capital punishment!"_

_King Henry's wineglass of "Human: Type B" liquor shatters in his grasp. Blood drips from his open wound… Like the disgusting beast that he is, King Henry laps his own lifeblood in delight. The gesture relieves him of a hint of his burning ire. The vampire king is brought to a humored mood._

_"I guess I needed to taste 'a different type' after hearing that. It's not like me to lose my patience so easily, but Backdoor Man's head should be presented to the masses. That alone will be proof of the Church's wrath – a visualization of death for those who wish to defy Lord Valdo's cause. Heretics will suffer the same fate… I grow tired of dealing with reports of their infidelities."_

_"Rest easy, my brother – I know of two **exceptionally** talented clergymen who are sure to get the job done", the King calms himself, pleased to hear of his friend's next move. "The fledgling, the traitors, the sleeping Crusnik, and the infidel will all learn the terror…**of the Adored Siblings' Jagged Edge**."_

_"Excellent choice, old friend", the King and the Pope share delighted laughter, beaming in anticipation of the bloodshed to come._

__Their laughter sounds throughout the foundations of Rutherford, as the bell tolls the afternoon hour.__

* * *

><p>"Little Thrill and D. Remedy – the Adored Sibling's Jagged Edge", our favorite foul-mouthed informant has remotely eavesdropped on the Pope's conversation with King Henry using his existence. As one who knows of our next attackers' might, White Noise fears that our next battle may be too much for us to handle. An idea suddenly comes to mind. "<em>Hmm…<em> Maybe I should lend Stuart a hand this time. I haven't put _Echoes_ to work on the battlefield in quite some time. Maybe having a _little_ fun will do these old bones some good."

A high-ranked human member of Infinity rudely steps into White Noise's office.

The Scottish informant refuses to turn his chair away from his window, already knowing who's barged into the peaceful silence of his corner office.

"Brother Randal, why've you rudely stepped into my office? You could be reprimanded for such crude behavior, my friend, but I'm not a bleeding pansy like _most_ of Infinity HQ."

_"Are you serious?" White Noise arches his eyebrow in confusion._

"Where're ya going with this, Randy?"

_"You're actually going to go out there and fight? Please, Father Andrew, don't put yourself in harm's way. The Church will **surely** want to take you out – you're Infinity's top informant **and** cybernetic specialist."_

"What's our '_Number 1'_ _Methuselah_ doing worrying about an old pro like me?" the informant is tickled by Brother Randal's concern for his creator.

"I _may_ be a cyborg, but I'm still human. I almost _died_ in that car accident 6 years ago near Wales. I lost my wife, my daughter, everything – I was a man left alone to die of massive blood loss. Just like the _other_ Methuselahs, you saved me and made me a new creature. Now, honestly, why would _you_ – my hero and liberator – ask me something _blind_ like that?"

_White Noise is a man of emotion, but its rate that he obliges the useless concerns of another._

The informant turns around and reveals his handsome face and long mane to his greatest creation: _Methuselah X-0769 – Brother Randal K. Orton_. White Noise stands from his office chair and approaches the human cyborg with a warm smile.

"So, Brother Randal, how's that championship reign coming along?"

_"It's going well, sir", Randal is silently displeased with his creator's topic change._

"I'll be all right, Randy", the caring creator embraces his creation, for he considers _all_ Methuselahs 'his children'. The human cyborg embraces his hero, silently harboring worry for the Infinity informant. "You're one of my children, boy. A good papa dog _never_ leaves his puppies alone for long. I'll be back, Randy – I promise."

"Fine…ya crazy old geezer", White Noise releases his Methuselah, presenting him a deck of metallic playing cards. Brother Randal receives the deck, recognizing them as _M.B. Access Passes _– special cards capable of unlocking the biogenetically altered abilities of a Methuselah's blood. "Father Andrew, are you sending me out on another mission?"

"You've got business to take care of concerning a gang of bloodsuckers in Germany. Randal, you're our top-ranked Methuselah. This is your specialty – _assassination_. So, Methuselah X-0769, get your arse over there and deal with a group called _'Die Reinblüter'_ – translation: _'The Purebloods'_."

_"…Who's their leader?" Brother Randal's eyes are filled with the hunger of the hunt._

"A madman named _Lord Klaus Erwin Geschonneck_ – a faceless nightwalker who runs the German Ferryman Coastal Branch. If _he_ dies, so does the Pope's main food supply. Take no prisoners, fella."

_"Understood, Father Andrew", the Methuselah's right arm mechanically parts down the middle, allowing him to install an **M.B. Access: Location Card** in a metallic slot. His arm mechanically closes, filling his cybernetic memory with the precise coordinates of Geschonneck's whereabouts. "Information stored. Proceeding with Assassination 328976 – Klaus Erwin Geschonneck."_

After leaving White Noise's office, via ion-empowered mechanical batwings, Brother Randal heads northwest of Infinity HQ. His mechanical batwings _roar_ like a fighter aircraft dancing through aerospace.

The proud Scottish informant watches his finest cyborg decorating the skies with proud eyes.

_("Now that I've got that little puppy kicking straight, it's time for some good, old-fashioned fun"), the informant's office phone rings, distracting his eyes from the departing Brother Randal._

White Noise takes the call.

"God is on your side, this is Infinity HQ", the phone call is suddenly ended without an answer. White Noise hangs up his phone, dismissing the call as 'a wrong number'. However, the phone rings again. "What is this – _'Bother the Nightwalker Day'_?"

White Noise takes the next call.

"God is on your side, this is Infinity HQ."

**_"Tod allen ungläubigen! Es lebe Valdo von Dracula!"_**

_The call is dismissed by the sender._

_The caller is a German female supporter of Count Valdo von Dracula's cause. The message delivered was a boastful one – "Death to all infidels. Long live Valdo von Dracula."_

_Whoever that woman was, she was pretty bold to call Infinity HQ and make such an odious remark._

_White Noise hangs up the phone, bothered by the fact that Count Valdo's cause has reached even the minds and hearts of the Germans. Ignoring the incident, he dismisses himself from his office and runs by a young female agent. They exchange nods, pass each other up and go about their merry little ways… However, the Church bares its ugly face – the female agent turns around, opens her jacket, pulls out an automatic rifle and aims it at White Noise's skull. The **sound** of the unlocking firearm…is **all** that White Noise needs to claim victory._

"You'd do yourself some good getting off of these premises, miss", the Scottish vampire halts, turning on his heel to face the assassin with a warm smile. "I'm authorized to do away with intruders. It'd _pain_ me to have to kill the woman who just called me, so let's save the bloodshed, miss."

"Essen silber, verräter!" the beautiful German assassin threatens him with death, calling him a traitor, as she unloads her rounds into what appears to be a protective watery mass of air in front of the Infinity informant's body. The female assassin stops shooting, lowering her automatic rifle in a loss of understanding. "What on earth–? How can this be possible…? I just shot you in heart!"

_"Oh, so you know a little English after all? That'll carry you a long way, miss."_

"You do not scare me!" the female assassin holds her automatic rifle with shaking hands, proving her target's psychological hold on her. She tries to talk herself out of her obvious insecurity. "I am _high_ officer of Church in Germany! I no let you leave this place with life, infidel!"

**_"Oh, really?"_**

_"Yes, really!" the automatic rifle in the assassin's hands spontaneously combusts, causing the metal pieces of the firearm to shoot directly through her front. The assassin's insides decorate the ground with a pile of grotesque mulch. On her last breath, the woman conveys her dying surprise. "Im…po…si…ble… I…I can't…be…lieve…"_

_"I know, miss – I can't believe it, either", the female assassin's body falls to its knees, and then collapses on the carpeted hallway floors. White Noise shakes his head and sarcastically ticks his teeth. Like the eccentric old fool that he is, he pulls out a handkerchief from his jacket and throws it on the fallen assassin's body. "Clean yourself off, miss. It's ain't proper for a lady to walk around in a bloodied business suit."_

White Noise leaves the death scene.

A few minutes later, a few Infinity agents discover the dead body of the female assassin. They also discover a red cross and moon pendant in her business suit's jacket… The agents report the body to the Medical Ward, where it is stored in one of the many lockers in the morgue.

While this is done, White Noise is en route to Osborne City – the place where we are destined to run into Little Thrill and D. Remedy, the Adored Siblings' Jagged Edge. He sips his coffee, being chauffeured to his destination by a hired human male driver.

_"How long before we reach Osborne City, Jeeves?"_

_"2 hours, Father Andrew."_

_"2 hours, eh? I guess I can enjoy the view until then."_

_"Father Andrew, have you heard of the dead assassin found near your office?", asks the old English driver. "It was said she had an **ugly** gash in her body. Did you see what happened, sir?"_

_"Oh, you're talking the silly German broad I whacked off. She was quite the feisty little number."_

_"It was you, sir?" the old driver giggles with surprise._

_"I've got to relieve the itch for battle **someway**, ya know."_

_"Well then, good job, sir", the seasoned chauffer continues driving off into the distance, with the Scottish informant enjoying Rutherford's glorious countryside._

_Wait a second… Father…"Andrew"?_

_That name…I've heard it somewhere before… I just don't know where from._

_And the mystery stands – "Who" are Little Thrill and D. Remedy? How frightening is the power of **Jagged Edge**? Will Brother Randall be successful with his mission in Germany? And what of Father Andrew's existence, **Echoes** – how much more **amazing** can it's power become?_

__The war to break the wall of animosity between the races continues…__

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme - "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Coming Up: Chapter 5 – A Jagged Era)<em>**


	6. Chapter 5: A Jagged Era

_**BLOOD/Night**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Opening Theme – "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 – <strong>**A Jagged Era**

* * *

><p><em>The Ferryman Coastal Company – German Branch: the leading supplier of human-manufactured delicacies for the vampire race, and Pope Leonard's pot-of-gold.<em>

September 24th – the day that the German Branch seized power over the Black Market – is known to all nightwalkers as _"the Bloody Sabbath"_. In response to the declining finances of the Church, King Henry of Aldington funded the business with overwhelming financial muscle. For 12 years and some odd months, the Ferryman Coastal Company's territory soon met 13 locations around the world: its German headquarters, Japan, Iceland, Scotland, Ireland, South America, North America, the Republic of China, the Russian Federation, the Philippines, Canada, Africa, and the Church's _main_ territory – Great Britain.

_The man responsible for supervising the Ferryman Branches – Lord Klaus Erwin Geschonneck of Germany._

Geschonneck surrounds himself with a smorgasbord of women, some of whom are used for nourishment, as a bandage to cover up his secreted loneliness. Known to be a lover of the current _Urban Age_, Geschonneck has adopted the conducts of the flamboyant subculture as another _"Anglo-German gone gangster"_. His Alias: _**Vanilla Ice**_ – a highly revered and respected moniker created by the German populace, _after_ witnessing the freezing terror of his existence of water, _**Ice Baby**_.

Coming forth as a territory capable of freezing temperatures_ 500-degrees_ _below 0_, Ice Baby's death count is nothing short of _gargantuan_. Geschonneck's Type D + Blood causes him to become dangerously hostile when provoked, and his crotchety temperament only _adds_ _more_ "_chill_" to the intensity of his icy wrath. Highly favored by _both_ Pope Leonard and King Henry, Geschonneck's political power is _also_ a force to be reckoned with.

_Whether running for the political chair or battling against the German supreme court, Geschonneck's international support system is without equal. Infinity HQ has classified him as an "S Class assassination target" – the __**highest**__ level of the International Danger Classification Grid… Geschonneck is one bloodsucker that Infinity HQ **refuses** to ignore any longer…_

_And that is why Methuselah X-0769, Randal K. Orton – Infinity's top-ranked cyborg operative – has been dispatched to claim the head of the man classified as "Assassination Target: 328976"._

"_Holen sie sich die eingeweide der lagerung jetzt, Neumann!" the German powerhouse orders one of his men to hurry with a delivery of entrails to Storage for freezing. Standing from the balcony just outside his office window, his raspy voice reaches the mass of dockhands. "We must not be wasting the time, men! The Pope's counting on us to nurse his finances back to good standards! Move, move, move!"_

"_Für die Kirche!" the mass of German wharfies praises the Church, fueling their worker's dedication._

Geschonneck returns to his office chair, immediately tackling a stack of shipment returns as high as his nose, and he's _quite_ the tall man… _Imagine_ his workload.

"_Bah!_ Klaus cannot handle all this in _one day_!" he complains in annoyance, wishing he had a personal assistant to help him with his workload. "I am needing _young lady_ to help with many stacked papers… Yes, a capable young lady – probably…_delicious_ young lady."

The sick-headed bloodsucker's fangs hunger for the blood of a virgin.

Geschonneck hasn't tasted the blood of another in over a week, and he's growing tired of dealing with the cuisine that the human populace loves so much. These foods are offered to him by humans who've ignorantly dedicated their lives to Count Valdo von Dracula's cause. His supporters are carriers of the Scarlet Lunar Cross – designating them as loyal followers of the Church called "_Gideonites_".

_It isn't rare to see young female Gideonites walk into the German branch…and __**never**__ come out._

Geschonneck calls up _the Gideon Embassy_ to hire a new personal assistant.

"Gideon Embassy, Rutherford HQ – this is Sister Mary Victoria speaking", the beautiful Afro-British nun answers from her corner office in Southeast Rutherford.

_"Good evening, Sister. This is Geschonneck."_

_"What can I do for you today, Brother Klaus?" the beautiful nun is delighted to hear from her old friend._

_"Klaus grows weary with many works. I am needing good, hardworking young lady for personal assistant. Are you having any new Gideonites for assistance of paperwork, Sister?"_

"Let me check – please hold", Sister Mary Victoria presses the Standby button on her office phone, and takes a total of two minutes to look through the Gideonite database.

She receives good results, finding a young lady suitable for his needs – a beautiful young Latina named _April Jeanette Mendez_. Sister Mary Victoria comes back from standby to hear Geschonneck having a very _disturbing_ conversation with an unknown man.

"Who _are_ you? Why have you barged into Klaus's place of business with _such_ _animosity_?"

_"Infinity wants you dead, Geschonneck", Sister Mary Victoria recognizes the stranger's voice as belonging to the dispatched Methuselah, and her body feels like it's been frozen over with fear. Brother Randal's serpentine laughter moves closer to Geschonneck's office phone. The cold-blooded Methuselah picks up the German's receiver and speaks directly to the caller. "Sorry, Mr. Geschonneck won't be needing your assistances any longer…__**Sister Mary Victoria**__."_

_The intimidating hiss in Brother Randal's voice sets the beautiful nun into a state of fear!_

_In reaction to her fear, Sister Mary Victoria throws her phone onto her desk, unable to catch her breath… The thought of Brother Randal already knowing so much about the situation, holding murderous cybernetic power in his cold grasp, has **completely psyched** the ageless beauty out of her wits._

Brother Randal ends the phone call, hanging up in the panicking nun's face.

_"You've quite the nerve, Methuselah!" the German powerhouse's voice hisses furiously at the sight of the confident cyborg's arrogance. Brother Randal shoots Klaus a humored smirk, flaunting the cybernetic machinery of his mechanically modified eyes with a simple blink. Geschonneck is highly impressed with the ingenious craftsmanship of Infinity HQ's Cybernetic Reconstruction Team. "You're also being quite the work of art, my friend. White Noise and his men have turned you into a fully cybernetic killing machine, but such power is a mere whisper compared to your past life… From the prison, to the ring of wrestling, to the political offices of Infinity radicals – you've lived quite the exciting life, my friend. It's only __**normal**__ for a person like __**you**__ to have enjoying time when killing others."_

_Yes, it's true – Randal's past life is of an ex-convict reconstructing himself from a career as a hitman for the Italian mafia… He was known to the Italian underworld and his **hundreds** of fallen victims as __**"The 'Snake-Eyed' Crazy Ace"**__ – a dreaded codename he's since separated himself from._

Brother Randal was famous for taking _hordes of gunmen out with his_ _bare hands_, attacking them en masse with viper-like reflexes and _inhuman_ brutal force. After being arrested for the aggravated murder of 50 men, Randal's incarceration was set for _50 years to life_… However, the people of Infinity HQ saw behind the dirty veil of Randal's incarceration – the hit was set up by a Gideonite follower of the Church that _still_ works for the Italian Mafia to this day… The foul-mouthed White Noise visited _the Bartholdi Correctional Facility_ and exercised his political power to facelessly bail Orton out of imprisonment.

_Randal was freed of his sentence without an explanation, much to the chagrin of the hateful Gideonite warden. It was on this day that he started his life anew, putting his raw skill into the wrestling ring._

It was during this time of his life that he met his wife Samantha, and they married 4 years later.

However, on the night after their first anniversary, the couple and their lovely daughter were en route to their home in Saint Charles, Missouri…_when they were randomly hit off the road by an impaired truck driver_.

_The accident claimed the lives of his family, and left his body broken and useless; however, fate worked its magic… And the faceless White Noise revealed himself to the paralyzed Mr. Orton._

_"You didn't deserve that, fella. How about letting a crazy old fart like me help you out?"_

_"Who…are you?" faintly whispered the paralyzed and bloodied wrestler._

_"Father Andrew Galloway – head cybernetic engineer and informant of the Infinity radical group, Codename: White Noise… You can close your eyes to your nightmare for now, fella. However, Mr. Orton, when you wake up…you'll think yourself to be living in a dream."_

As Randal's mind fell into unconsciousness, the past that haunted him like an unforgiving ghost…was _exorcised_.

_His body slept for a week and a half, being injected with a new skeletal system, blood-empowering nanomachines, biogenetic and cybernetic wonders, and an A.I. that holds every memory of his past life in order for the young man to remain "himself" – to keep him from becoming "a mindless cybernetic lifeform"._

When Randal opened his eyes at precisely 9:58 AM on September 24th, 2005, the nightmare of past sins had been completely washed away by Infinity's overwhelming scientific power. The bloody transgressions of _"Snake-Eyed Crazy Ace"_ was no more, and the righteous acts of _"Methuselah X-0769: Brother Randal K. Orton"_ began with the rightful assassination of one _Jean-Claude Manuel D'Amboise – a C Class French madman harboring nuclear muscle in Paris._

When D'Amboise's 5000-man front was slain by Brother Randal's cybernetic existence of wind, _**Aerosmith**_, the madman pleaded for mercy at the Methuselah's cold feet. Brother Randal performed his _"Battle Dance"_, and did take D'Amboise's life with the dreaded cut of Aerosmith's _**Rocksimus Maximus**_.

_His current head, Assassination Target: 328976 – Lord Klaus Erwin Geschonneck, is about to meet the same soul-shredding death that the men before him have._

"The Lord has _washed away_ the sins of my bloody past, Mr. Geschonneck…" Brother Randal's cold eyes pinch away at the German powerhouse's confidence. The Methuselah draws an _**M.B. Access: Upgrade Card**_ from the deck stored in a cybernetic compartment in his belt buckle, inserting it into the metallic slot within his opened right arm. Brother Randal's cybernetic arm closes, filling his memory with the recorded existence of the Upgrade Card. His venomous stare and hissing voice fills Geschonneck with quiet angst. "…but, in _your_ case…redemption is _eons_ away after committing such _unspeakable_ _crimes_ against living, breathing creatures. I will now carry out my mission – _to present you the honor of dying in the cutting breeze of my existence_."

_The frozen Geschonneck stands to view the forthcoming terrors of the Methuselah's existence._

**"**_**Authorization! M. B. Access: Aerosmith – 20%!"**__ Brother Randal's technologically enhanced eyes shine with a vibrant white glow, as a watery grey metaphysical dimension expands within a 500-degree radius of his cold frame. This existence is accompanied by a cool breeze of wind. __**"Tactic 01: Jaded Summer – Activate!"**_

The German powerhouse becomes resilient, holding his hands in front of his body.

Geschonneck's eyes fill with provoked rage, signaling the rousing of his vampire blood.

_"You think this meager wind scares Klaus, Methuselah?" the air suddenly becomes a bit cooler than normal, rousing Brother Randal's impressions. The German powerhouse clutches his hands into tight fists, making the cool air storm forth as a violent blizzard. The Methuselah's mechanical body seems to be capable of sustaining the decreasing temperatures of Geschonneck's storm. " I now show you __**why**__ people fear me – __**the cold-hearted 'Vanilla Ice'**__! ... __**Chill Out! Ice Baby!**__"_

_A beautiful maiden of the winter emerges from Geschonneck's existence, gracefully flying to the stationary Methuselah with embracing arms… The maiden of winter takes Brother Randal into her freezing embrace, encasing the cyborg in a fatally cold block of ice._

"You will now die, just like the Methuselahs sent before you, my friend", the German powerhouse's mode of confidence is suddenly brought to an end… It appears as if the block of ice is melting from Brother Randal's body. The sight of such an unexplainable breaking of the laws of physics sets Geschonneck into a state of shock. _"What wizardry is this? A Methuselah…melting **my** **Lady Morphine's Embrace**?"_

"_Your_ Lady Morphine's Embrace?" laughs the confident Methuselah, as his increased body temperature melts away the thick prison of ice from his body. His cybernetic memory assists him in his words. "The attack known as _'Lady Morphine's Embrace'_ – you _stole_ that from _Alexander Broaden Crosse's repertoire of killing techniques_. You've _faked_ being a powerful man for _hundreds_ of years, _eventually_ evolving into a man of authority within the current decade. Your political _and_ financial power is without equal… _And you can't even be original with your own fighting skills? Geschonneck…your lack of personality __**really**__ sucks on balls!_"

_**"I show you personality, infidel!"** the German powerhouse excites his winter winds, causing the entire building to become encased in a thick sheet of ice. His anger has reached a death-seeking limit! __**"Freeze to your death, impertinent Methuselah…!"**_

_The entire Ferryman Coastal Co. building is now buried within a thick block of ice… Geschonneck has lost his patience to the point that he's shutdown his **own** business. Vampires, especially survivors of the olden days, are like this – when they become angry…__**no one**__, not even their own selves, is safe from their all-consuming wrath._

_"You…are finished now"_, the German bloodsucker falls to his hands and knees, feeling the fatigue of overexerting his existence. Geschonneck deactivates his icy influence, causing the winter winds to fade back into his existence. The end result of his outburst – he's lost everything, but Brother Randal is _still_ alive and operating just fine. Torn by his insignificance, Geschonneck concedes by leveling himself before the Methuselah's mercies. _"I…I can't… This is being…__**impossible**__! Ice Baby is __**strongest**__ existence in world! How can Klaus lose to __**weakling**__** Methuselah**?"_

Brother Randal is tickled to laughter…_that slowly progresses into a mode of anger and annoyance_.

"_Impossible?_ _Strongest_ existence in the world? _Me_ – a _weakling_ Methuselah? _Ha!_ Not _only_ are you consumed by your spoon-fed privileges, your political and financial muscle, and your ranks with the Church…_you're so damn arrogant and thick-headed that you can't see past your **own** blinding sheet of ice! Even when I worked for the Mafia, I couldn't __**stand**__ smug shitheads like you! You give __**all**__ races of nightwalkers a bad rep, Geschonneck!_"

The cowardly German nightwalker attempts to pull off a surprise attack by exciting the tundra that has covered his office… The sheet of snow develops into razor-sharp pillars of ice that are attracted to Brother Randal's body. The impact of these spikes could send a normal man to his grave… _But not a Methuselah_.

_**"****Tactic 02: Rocksimus Maximus – Activate!"**_ _the cyborg's passionate call causes his activated Jaded Summer to become wild, violently cutting through __**every**__ darting spike with __**amazing**__ accuracy and precision._

_Rocksimus Maximus begins to spread through the office, trapping Geschonneck in a merciless storm of bloody execution… The German powerhouse meets his end, being shredded by the unforgiving force of Brother Randal's existence of wind, Aerosmith._

The storm is silenced, and a miracle occurs.

_("Hmm? Has it gotten a little…warmer?") Brother Randal's body senses a spontaneous atmospheric change – it feels as if the freezing chill has been reduced back to normal room temperature. The Methuselah leaves the office, proceeding to the front door of the shutdown human-manufacturing branch. He arrives outside to what appears to be a sunny sky and a defrosting city. The environment was also a victim of Geschonneck's existence, but the influence has been laid to rest. ("I guess I see __**why**__ the old fool thought he was the most powerful existence user… An existence with __**that**__ much range? Talk about impressive… But that's __**all**__ it was – impressive – and nothing more.")_

The communication system built into Brother Randal's A.I. unit is toggled by the travelling White Noise. The mysterious informant's voice sounds gentle and pleased.

_**"Good job taking out Klaus, Randy. It was funny how the bastard took out the Purebloods and his business with his own power. Ha! What a hotheaded retard!"**_

Brother Randal is pleased to hear the informant's voice, as he takes off into the sky via his ion-powered batwings. The ion exhaust roars fiercely, as Brother Randal heads southeast towards Rutherford.

_("Father Andrew, how was your trip to Osborne City?") mentally asks the Methuselah with a warm voice._

_**"****I've just rented a room at the William J. Osborne Astoria. It's late over here, and the others won't arrive until 5:09 PM. Echoes is keeping tabs on them using its remote abilities."**_

_("I'm glad that you're all right, Father. Are there any more objectives for me to cover?")_

_**"Yes, I was getting to that… The Archbishop of the Church, whose identity remains veiled in mystery, has ordered the assassination of Damien Isaiah Crosse – Stuart's hot little number."**_

_("DC? Why would they want to hurt him?")_

_**"****They fear the boy to be a Crusnik because of his blood type and surname. The Pope and the King are shitting their pants at the idea."**_

_("Damien – a Crusnik? I'd be __**scared**__ too if I were working for the Church.")_

_**"I'm dispatching your fellow Highwaymen to cover your tracks until you arrive to Osborne City. Shift course a few meters to the east like you're going towards **_Wimberley_**. You should be there in 25 minutes."**_

_Brother Randal's A.I. begins processing the given information, storing it in his cybernetic memory._

_("Information processed"), the Methuselah's A.I. flashes a fleeting white light from his eyes, signaling the system's recognition of the stored information. ("Proceeding with next objective. Mission _– p_rotect Damien Isaiah Crosse and eliminate all hostiles.")_

_**"Godspeed, Randy"**__, wishes the proud creator to his Methuselah, as the ionic jets of Brother Randy's cybernetic batwings boost into overdrive._

_The Methuselah flies towards what may prove to be his toughest assignment to date._

* * *

><p><em>In Osborne City, life is a constant work schedule.<em>

Known to all neighboring communities as _"the Commercial Giant"_, Osborne reigns as the economical leader of _all_ British cities, falling in 3rd place under London and Wales in popularity. Normally, those looking to expand their business ventures journey to the metropolis, but several hundred upperclassmen families have found a home here. Osborne City is a technological, commercial-based wonderland. It's the norm now – our company passing through the growing metropolis during _every_ tour of Europe.

"Lourdes, be a good man and take us to the local Toy Carnival", calmly demands a female upperclassman of her chauffer. A cute little babe, no older than a year, merrily bounces in her child safety seat. The lady of the upper class notices two mischievous athletes clowning around on rollerblades. The sight of such childish showmanship sets her into a state of superciliousness. "I swear, these _commuters_ are the lowest of _all_ gutter trash. _Look_ at those two buffoons – horse-playing around the area on their _flashy_ rollerblades. I bet it cost them a _fortune_ to get those simpleton's toys, and yet they _mindlessly_ neglect their worth by _ruining_ their blades with immature antics. What _unspeakable_ disrespect and foolhardiness."

"Yes, their behavior is _quite_ deplorable", agrees the English chauffer of Spanish descent. All of a sudden, the rollerblading delinquents begin performing suspicious acts – the slimmer extremist exhibits inhuman dexterity and leg strength, leaping _high_ above the tight traffic jam. Lourdes is shocked by such a feat. _"My word! Do you see that, Mrs. Estefan? The slimmer one's flying through the air like a bird!"_

The lady of the upper class looks away from her little girl, beholding the young man's inhuman landing – a wild feat that could _sever_ the legs of a normal man. The meatier extremist comes to a halt with his partner, holding their most parallel fists in a precise lateral positioning across from each other. Together, the extremists begin rollerblading at speeds _well_ beyond that of 100 MPH, somehow causing _an unexplained severing of the tops of every car caught in the traffic jam!_

_"Mercies! Lady Gloria, du–!" the limousine is parted right down the middle with a clean horizontal cut._

_"AAH!" before the lady of the upper class can think, _the invisible cutting force claims her head_ – her baby, however, survives the accident due to her lowered positioning in her child safety seat._

_The murderous extremists clean the entire crowded street, giving a whole new meaning to "chopping car parts"… Finishing off the last line of cars, the extremists gather in the middle of the _tiled street of Wilmer Groves Avenue, skidding to a perfect stop.__

_"Yeah, baby – put the fleshies to bed!" excites the slimmer extremist, slapping his partner five._

_"Let's go and hunt down the cannibal. The Pope's bound to get a heart attack if he's left alive."_

_"**Man…** I don't know about this", the murderous extremists relieve themselves of their metallic helmets by allowing them to fade back into their existence. They are revealed to be our company's two adored American Samoans – Jonathan and Joshua Fatu. Jonathan, the carefree brother, is showing doubts about assassinating my boy. "We're pretty cool with him. Do you think it's **right** to just kill him off like that, Josh?"_

_Joshua, the serious one, has to agree with that notion._

_"How do you think **I** feel?" the howling sirens of the approaching authorities sound from their rear. The two extremists don their metallic headgear, taking off towards the city limits. Joshua leaps over the long line of cars with a single bound, his twin brother follows after him in the same manner. "I don't think they like our games, man! Let's hightail it to the fledgling's crew, take out the traitors, knockout DC and take him to the Church! Remember – we got orders to bring him back alive!"_

_"Roger that! Let's jam it!" the brothers stylishly grace the tiled pavement with their blades, swiftly rolling off towards the city limits._

_The authorities arrive to the sight of the beheaded heiress of the "Madame Estefan" line of women's formal dresses – Lady Gloria – and her beheaded chauffer. Her little daughter, Emily, has survived the loss of her mother…and will return home to a broken family. News spreads quickly in Osborne City – news of which will greatly trouble Natalie, a loyal buyer of Mrs. Estefan's legendary formal wear._

* * *

><p><em>No more than an hour later, reports of the massacre have reached our rental cars' radio waves.<em>

_"…Authorities say that fashion mogul Gloria Estefan was only one of the 58 victims caught in the terrifying massacre. Witnesses claim that 'two male extremists in metallic suits of armor' passed by, while the cars were 'mysteriously parted' by an unknown force. Mrs. Estefan is survived by her daughter Emily, her son Nayib, and her husband Emilio. To the Estefan Family – you have our deepest condolences and our highest of regards. This is Kendra Knightly with 'the Morning Soup' on Speedwagon 101 FM KREO. Have a blessed day."_

Natalie turns off the radio, displeased with what she's just learned about her favorite fashion designer.

"_All_ of that talent, and the Church goes and _whacks_ her off", Natalie's voice is filled with a hint of displeasure, decorating her profile with discontent. Her lover pulls their rental car into the parking lot of the William Osborn Astoria, with our car parking in a vacant spot in the next row to the west. Natalie recognizes the fashion mogul's work. "Lady Gloria's clothing was the official formalwear worn by the women of Infinity. Looks like the Pope and my ex-husband have _lowered_ themselves to pulling off childish antics to get back at us."

"_Speaking_ of Infinity…" Theodore's curiosity pinches at him. "…_why_ haven't we heard from them in the past few days? Father Yuvraj's been missing since John attacked us on the road. He said he would meet up with us in Kingsley, but he never showed up."

"Father Yuvraj was called to assist in the retrieval of Geschonneck's head for burial purposes. I got word from him today – Brother Randal left the old fool in a bloody pile of…_everything_. Ferryman HQ's been shut down, and the Pope's food supply has reached a deficit. Raj should be waiting for us at the meeting that'll announce the _new_ Executive of Creative Development & Operations… Speaking of one of the candidates…the faceless Archbishop of the Church has put out _a_ _hit_ on Damien's head."

_"Damien? Why would 'they' want DC dead?" the Canadian half-breed's been set into a mode of worry._

"I was about get to that. You see, Sister Mary Victoria found out some _shocking_ news about _'our favorite little fellow'_… Damien has Type E + Blood – a trait that links him to an _extinct_ race of vampire cannibals called 'Crusniks'. It's believed that he's of Alexander Broaden Crosse's blood – a Crusnik said to be the _most_ _dangerous_ among the cannibals, revered as _'the Eater of Nightwalkers'_."

_"I don't believe it…" Theodore clutches onto the steering wheel with stubborn hands. "…it's a **lie**! I **refuse** to believe that! Damien – he's not a **monster** like this fucking 'Eater-dude'!"_

Theodore's eyes _burn_ with a stubborn, brotherly anger.

"Calm down, TJ", the former queen eases her lover's anger, knowing him to care a lot about his friends. The incensed half-breed calms his nerves, releasing his fury with a rough exhale. "I don't like it _any more_ than you do. Damien's got to be the _kindest_, _sweetest_ person that I know. He reminds me _so much_ of Maribel's mother, Miriam… He's a spitting image of her, almost as if she _farted_ him out of her rear end."

"Wait a second…" TJ looks at his ageless love with curious eyes. "…are you saying that _Damien's_–?"

"No, not at all. _Recently_, I've discovered Damien to _actually_ be of Alexander's blood… and Alexander, his grandfather of _five_ generations in the past, was the _bestfriend_ of Lady Miriam and me. He's been missing for _decades_, hiding his face from society to wean himself of the hunger of vampire blood. Damien's father, _Brandon_, made him the godson of Miriam's current descendant – _Michael Jordache Neumann III_. By law, Damien is tied to both families, for his father is a Crusnik and his mother is an Afro-British vampiress named _Yolanda_. As an honor to both families, I left Infinity HQ in the capable hands of our informant and head cybernetic engineer 'White Noise' to watch over Damien…growing to love the cutie as if her were my son."

_Natalie clutches onto her knees with rising anger._

_TJ is alerted by his girlfriend's nervous ire._

_"Damn them! As the Holy Maiden of Infinity, I **refuse** to let them lay a finger on him! Mark my words… If they so much as cause **a hair to split from his head**, **I'll fry that entire damned cult with Wild Orchid's fire!**"_

_Flames spark from the former queen's enraged grasp._

_"Natalie, calm down", TJ somehow manages to calm Natalie with his warm voice. The beautiful vampiress' flames are put out by her calmed existence. "You can't let them get to you, Babes. You almost set the car on fire. **Don't** let their psychological games put you in that state of mind. You taught me that yourself."_

"You're right…let's talk about something else", the former Queen beams her lover a warm smile.

_Theodore lounges in the driver's seat, bringing up something that's tickling at his curiosity._

"So, Alexander was your friend, huh?" the former queen is amused by her lover's curiosity. "Weren't you kind of scared that he'd…_you know_…eat you up or something?"

"Yeah, I know – a 'vampire eater' that's bestfriends with 'a vampiress aristocrat' and 'a human gentlewoman'", Natalie is tickled by the thought of such a peculiar set of friends. Good memories flash through her mind – visions of her past life in the 1490s with her friends. "As a former Mother of the Church, I was forbidden to have children, so I did _my very best_ to survive for as long as I have. God told me that I had to 'remain as pure as Mother Mary' in order to exact a righteous cause. Lady Miriam and Lord Alexander were there at my side, and we spoke of a plan to build Infinity together… _Henry soon heard word of our plans_. In retaliation, after our divorce and my resignation of leave from the Church, Miriam was killed on the night she gave birth to Lady Maribel. Lord Alexander disappeared weeks later, leaving a note of departure that spoke of him travelling to _'put an end to **all** vampire hostiles'_ using his existence of the feed. I vowed to watch over their families throughout the generations, and I'm currently obligated with _both_ Christopher and Damien. I don't worry about Stu too much – he's too _bullheaded_ to accept the protection of another, not to mention the _potential_ _superpower_ of his existence of the sun, _Paradise City_."

_"What **is** it? What kind of existence **is** Paradise City? **Why** do you look up to it so much, Babes?"_

"Paradise City's capable of correcting the laws of physics, we all know _that_ to be true; however, it's an _existence of the sun_ – a _rare_ supernatural trait found in _any_ race of vampire. Nightwalkers become _weak and useless_ when exposed to sunlight, and are _incapable_ of fighting at their full potential. Also, if enough _radiation_ is applied to his attack patterns, a bloodsucker will _fry_ to a cinder just like any human. Paradise City is also capable of the following: _bending time, healing internal and external wounds in 35 seconds, and seeing into the past, present, **and** the future_. Stuart's only been witnessing _'the icing on the cake'_. He has _yet_ to taste 'the breaded core' of Paradise City's _wondrous_ supernatural muscle… Our favorite half-breed has _no_ _idea_ – the power that he holds in his hands makes him the _potential strongest_ _existence_ _user_ _of the vampire race_. That alone is reason _enough_ for the Church to _hate and fear him_. My ex-husband is the same way… Enough _'parking lot talk'_, sweetie. Let's go get checked in."

_"Okay, Babes", the loving ageless couple departs from their seats, fetches their luggage from the trunk, and heads into the Osborn Astoria to check into a hotel room._

* * *

><p><em>"Osborne City – my old man's favorite hangout spot, or so my mother once said to me", the travelling man in black drives his car through the city limits of the metropolis.<em>

Moonlight Mile plans to attend the meeting that'll decide the _new_ Executive of Creative Development & Operations, walking amongst others with his "_revealed face"_. Still, he will _not_ mention the truth behind his identity… _That he's really "Christopher Bennett" – formally "Christopher von Alucard"_. Christopher isn't one to talk much in the first place. He just lives _"in the spare of the moment"_, speaking when the time calls for his highly-educated opinions.

_All of a sudden, a Ferrari passes him up going 40 miles above the speed limit. Being a loyal man when it comes to traffic laws, Christopher is downright **appalled** by the teamster's reckless driving etiquette._

"What the _hell_ is that maniac thinking…? Where's _that_ crazy man racing off to in such a rush…? **_Man_**, if he actually _makes_ it to his destination, it'll be a _miracle_ if several people didn't get _hit off the road in the process! Honestly – the young people of this day and age!_"

He laughs about what he's just said… Christopher's starting to _sound_ like an old man, let alone the fact that he naturally _behaves_ like an old school English-American. As a dhampir who's witnessed _several_ generations bloom and wither like flowers, Christopher's wisdom and maturity surpasses his youthful appearance.

_Still, there's something that's been troubling his heart for a while… He silently ponders about the disturbing report he received this morning from Infinity HQ, as his rental car comes closer to reaching the Astoria._

_("Damien…that kind young man…is a Crusnik?") Christopher has heard the news of my boy belonging to the race of cannibalistic vampires. He's always thought Damien to be 'a normal human', just as we all did; however, that's been proven to be **completely** **wrong**. Damien is also a pureblood vampire, which makes him both a vampire eater **and** a vampire lover. His blood is mixed just like my own, but he's **nowhere** near being human like I am… I guess that explains his short temper. ("My grandson's boy is 'a half-eater'? I can only **imagine** how much of a hard time he has with the sugar-faced kitten… Still, Damien's a nice young man – nice enough to keep Stuart tame like a lovesick puppy. I think it's high-time I became closer to my grandson. God knows he **needs** me in these hard and desperate times. It'd also be nice to see Lady Katherine's face, again – that silly old crone. Leave it to 'a crazy old cougar' to snatch up 'a pretty boy' like D'Zirconia. Oh well…who am **I** to judge my godmother's taste in men?")_

The seasoned dhampir notices that he only has _half an hour_ to get to the Astoria, get checked-in, put on his finest dress suit and head to Meeting Room 4 for the decision. Christopher steps on the gas.

_("I better put a move on it. I don't want to miss the decision… I already know it – Sticky Fingers showed me the truth… **He's** going to win.")_

_Christopher's rental car speeds off into the distance, quickly covering a lot of ground on his way to the Astoria's parking lot._

* * *

><p>"Has Randy arrived to the hotel, yet?"<p>

"No, Ronnie, he sent me a psyche message a few minutes ago – he's dealing with some hostiles that were en route to Osborne", the other Methuselahs have arrived to their seats in Meeting Room 4, amidst the mass of WWE HQ workers and associates. The South African Methuselah, _X-0732: Paul Lloyd, Jr._, fixes his tie that appears to be a bit _'too tight'_ for him. "I _hate_ dressing up. I'm a man of fashion, but this _damn_ tie's kicking my ass."

"Then you should've went shopping before you left Infinity HQ", rudely points _Methuselah X-1096: Heath Miller_, receiving a sharp look of annoyance from his former tag-team partner. The smug cyborg arrogantly lounges in his chair, ignoring the handsome dynamo's irritation. "You can look at me like that all you want, it _won't_ do you any good. _I'm_ not the one with _'chicken neck'_ because _I_ was too lazy to go to the store."

"Yeah, I can _tell_ that you do _all_ of your clothes shopping. Your _tacky_ sense of style really shines when you enter the room with a black dinner suit that makes you look like _'a period stain on a leather sofa'_."

The female Methuselah, _X-0998: Sarona Reiher_ , examines Heath's appearance… In her mind, she gets a comical image of _Heath's head in the middle of a leather sofa_. The beautiful Samoan Methuselah is set into a mode of suppressed laughter, attempting to keep her giggling quiet to not make a scene… The suppressed laughter turns to humored grunts, eventually _bursting_ into a snort that leads to wholesome feminine laughter.

_"He's right – you **do** look like a–!" Sarona's laughter makes the red-haired West Virginian blush in embarrassment, worsening the situation for him. "Oh lord, now you look **worse**! **Ha!** A period stain on a leather sofa – I think I'm gonna **die**! I can't **take** **it**!"_

_Heath shoots the snickering South African a sharp stare of beastly rage._

**_"Grr! You see what you did, ya bush-faced fag queen…?"_**_ snaps the red-haired West Virginian, pressing his forehead against Paul's. The whiskered browner pushes his forehead up, matching Heath in neck strength. "Your stupid-ass comment's got Ronnie making a scene, **and** you've embarrassed me! **Why** did you have to take it that far, ya jackass?"_

_"Because you're a self-centered ass-wipe of a fire crotch, **that's** why!"_

**_"What did you call me, bitch…?"_**_ Heath's voice heightens to a furious shriek._

_"I said 'your mother's an elephant's sugar baby', that's what!"_

_"I've had it with you – ASS WHIP!" the two engage in a comical catfight that storms through the open isles of Meeting Room 4. Sarona's since stopped laughing, and is now covering her face with the lunch menu to remain hidden. The two fighting Methuselahs' confrontational rants and uncivilized behavior has everyone in a state of **'what the hell?'** at the moment. "How **dare** you talk like that about my old lady!"_

_"Why not? I was **with** her last night!"_

_"Damn you, I'm going to **chop** your little dick off and feed it to a fucking seal!" the tussling Methuselahs lock hands, struggling in front of the C.O.O., the big-guy himself – Paul Lévesque, better known as 'Triple H' to the WWE Universe, amongst a renowned array of monikers. Paul clears his throat, causing the two wrestlers to freeze up with overwhelming intimidation. Heath and Paul look in the direction of the C.O.O. to see his intense gaze of displeasure. The two grown men release feminine shrieks, knowing how upset their boss is about their juvenile actions. "Oh, um…we were just…um…"_

"Uh-huh, I'm listening", the anger's not present in Lévesque's raspy voice, but the C.O.O.'s cold stare is proof enough. "Why were you two fighting in the first place? …This _better_ be good."

_"We were just…um…practicing?" Heath's lame excuse makes the C.O.O. arch his eyebrow in confusion._

_"Yes, just a friendly roll-around in the hay", nervously agrees Paul, laughing and stepping backwards with his fellow Methuselah. Heath and Paul take off at top-speed, jetting back to their seats. The arrived wrestlers look to Sarona to see her peeved body language. Paul attempts to reason with her. "Um…please, don't be mad at us, Ronnie? You know how we are – guys will be guys, right?"_

_The beautiful Samoan Methuselah whacks the boys on the dome with her purse, making them hold their heads with fleeting pain._

_"Ouch!" the boys shriek in discomfort._

"There, _now_ I'm not mad anymore", Sarona relieves herself of her displeased frown, as the boys properly rearrange their dinner suits. The lights dim, as the ceremony begins. Luckily, every employee that was en route to the Astoria is in attendance, except for two… Sarona notices _Cody Runnels_, a fellow coworker and competitor, showing up fashionably late as usual. Brother Randal arrives just a few seconds short of Cody, joining his fellow Methuselahs. "Glad to see you've made it, Randy."

_"Did I miss anything, guys?"_

"No, it's just started."

Randal notices how beat-up the former tag-team partners appear, and his concerns are toggled.

_"**Why** do you two look like 'hell in a hand basket'?"_

"Don't ask", answers the steaming wrestlers with humiliated tone.

_The ceremony begins with electrifying fanfare, for the company's about to crown a new executive._

_Damien and his opponent, another manager with a similar yet lackluster résumé, are called to the stage by the Lady of the company, Stephanie McMahon-Lévesque. Watching from the crowd below, I can tell that my boy's a bit nervous about this… He's good with large crowds, but not when he's under pressure._

__Still, I shouldn't worry about him… I know for sure that everything's going to be fine.__

* * *

><p><em>After the presentations and the introduction of the nominees, Mrs. Lévesque allowed Damien's opponent to take the stand. Like all candidates for an executive position, the young man presented lackluster ideas about how his creative influence would change the face of the company – common rubbish we've all heard time and time again. We applauded him for his efforts, of course, but the ovation was mediocre.<em>

When Damien's name is called, the reception is _eons_ above his opponent's – the entire room hoots and cheers with adoration. I can see his flattery, as he holds his heart like he's about to be crowned Homecoming King… And he looks so handsome in his formal dinner suit, which I took the liberty of picking out for him. My boy's always looked quite _dashing_ in navy-colored formalwear.

Damien takes the stand, and is asked how his position as an executive will help better the company.

His response is filled with truth, professionalism, dedication, wisdom, personal motives and realness – the characteristics that makes him the _best_ choice position filler.

_"What I will do to help this company?" his initial procedure of reiterating the question asked is nothing short of adorable. A few of our coworkers giggle, knowing well how **passionate** Damien is about the business. His succeeding words prove the strength of his passion… with a gentle smile. "My reasons for being here stems **far** beyond just being nominated… I've known Mr. and Mrs. Lévesque since I was 2-years-old. I never knew that, one day, I'd be working for the man that would put dirt in my diaper to make my bottom itch."_

Everyone is tickled by Damien's _open-minded sense of humor_ – Good Trait # 1.

_"Still, there were times when Paul would protect me from bullies that failed to understand me… I talked, behaved, and carried myself differently from most children. Stephanie was like a big sister to me, and she always told me of the little miracles that her father did to make their family business bloom through the years. I fell in love with the WWF, as it was known at the time, and 'vowed on my Teddy Ruxpin' that I'd somehow lend my professional muscle to the McMahon Family's cause…someday."_

We have to nod in humored agreement to his _personal affections_ towards the business – Good Trait # 2.

_"So, I went to college, majored in business management and minored in communications. I graduated at the top of my class, and **immediately** phoned Stephanie who was munching on chocolate cake because she was 5 months pregnant."_

A good, yet witty _sense of memory and recollection_ – Good Trait # 3.

_"I've been here since September of 2006, and I've enjoyed doing what I've done so far to help the business…but…" the dreaded 'sudden stop' that has everyone biting on their nails in expectance. Damien's well-known for that little suspenseful trait… But his next set of words places everyone in a state of complete adoration. "…but, I'm not satisfied with where the company's developmental and creative road is heading. Things have become **predictable**, the WWE Universe is growing **tired** of the same storylines, and I'm **personally** **dissatisfied** with some of the '**gimmicks'** that are making some of the **best** athletes in in the world look **completely** **ridiculous**. I don't want to **better** the WWE, I want to make it **the best** **there** **is**… So, if you will have me, I'll bleed, sweat, wear and tear myself to be the best Executive of Creative Development & Operations that money can buy… and help to make the late Ed McMahon's dream a real-life wonderland for everyone. Thank you."_

Drive, dedication, resilient to the ways of the norm, _and_ a visionary.

Damien's _sure_ to win this election… _And his opponent **can't** **take** **it** – the amazing standing ovation that my boy's getting from **every** person sitting in the room._

_"Go get em, DC!" cheers Theodore._

_"Woo…! That's **my** friend, baby!" seconds the equally elated Natalie._

_"Good form, Damien!" my happiness is without comparison._

Damien steps from behind the podium, holding his tears back with a charming smile. Stephanie takes the stand, doing the honors of presenting the judges' decision, initiating the announcement with a few personal words.

"As you may all know, when I step down from the chair, I'll be leaving the company to start a few personal business ventures of my own", a recognizable set of voices bark like confused hounds, tickling the mass of employees with their silly mannerisms. We're _all_ thinking the same thing – _Stephanie_ leaving the WWE? We would've _never_ guessed it. "Ignoring Mr. Cena and Mr. Gutiérrez's silliness, I'm _honored_ to present the award to our most eligible candidates. And the winner is…"

Stephanie opens the neatly folded sheet of paper, and her eyes fill up with tears of joy.

_"The winner is…Damien Crosse", the announcement brings everyone to their feet, and the ovation can be heard throughout the entire first floor of the William Osborn Astoria._

_Stephanie welcomes Damien into the executive position with open arms, taking him in with sisterly embrace. Paul personally takes the opportunity to present my boy a finely polished trophy, also hugging him afterwards… But sadly, the beautiful scene doesn't last for long…_

_The anger that my boy's opponent harbored since his lackluster standing ovation…**explodes**!_

**_"Damned half-eater bastard!"_**_ the enraged opponent draws an automatic pistol from the inside of his name brand Armani jacket. Raj is the first to see this, and silently activates his existence, as the crowd begins to panic. **"Eat led, you fucking abomina–…!"**_

_Clockwork Orange's influence has spread throughout Meeting Room 4, and everyone but Father Yuvraj is frozen in time. Acting quickly, the Punjabi-Canadian radical bends the laws of time, and randomly grabs the nearest dinner knives from tables on his way to the stage in a single go! Having gathered 6 dinner knives, Father Yuvraj comes to a halt and tosses the razor-sharp eating utensils at the unveiled bloodsucker's head._

_The knives are suspended in time, landing just an inch away from the right side of the assassin's face._

_"Your cowardice and bad sportsmanship is **sickening**", the Punjabi-Canadian radical returns to his seat, standing in the same position that he was just a minute ago. "As a fellow child of the night, it's only natural that I take you out of your misery. I shall now free the room of Clockwork Orange's **Chronos Bind**, and I **do** hope that you find peace in the afterlife. Time's up…goodbye."_

_Clockwork Orange's territory is absorbed back into Father Yuvraj's existence, and the six dinner knives' deadly impact pins the assassin's bleeding head to the wall at his left! The crowd is fearfully roused by the event, evacuating from the area en masse._

As he leaves, Father Yuvraj uses his existence to absorb the dinner knives into Clockwork Orange's Purgatory. The result – the assassin's dead corpse _decorates_ the stage with a pool of lifeblood. We're _all_ aware of this as being a product of his handiwork. Raj has _heroically_ saved my boy from being killed by a treacherous member of the Church, who was sent to seize power over the executive position…eventually working his way to _owning_ _the_ _entire_ _franchise_. A lot of innocents owe Raj a great deal of gratitude after this, but _I_ plan to personally extend my appreciation to him in the midst of our equally thankful friends.

* * *

><p><em>"Thank you, Raj…you saved my life back there", my boy extends his gratitude with a warm smile, amidst the heroic radical, our collection of associates, and me – his lover. Father Yuvraj receives Damien's hand of appreciativeness, and gives him a brotherly hug. "Where were you these past few days?"<em>

"Germany – assisting with the prayer to peacefully send a madman to the afterlife", the two friends, who've become closer after the afternoon's transpired events, release each other so that the word of Raj's travels can be heard. "Orton put one Lord Klaus Erwin Geschonneck to death at _approximately_ 8:30 AM. When we found the target's body, he had already been dead for over an hour."

_"Randy Orton…works for Infinity?" I'm shocked beyond belief._

"That's right, _Stuey_", that _voice_ and the uttering of the name that _only_ my boy can call me… We turn around to see Brother Randal and his fellow Methuselahs approaching our party. The small army of four joins us with friendly disposition. "We're _cyborgs_ – White Noise's products of research. We're all-purpose cybernetic war machines called _Methuselahs_."

_"Slater? Gabriel? And Tamina too? **Good** **Lord**, what other random surprises are in store for us this evening?"_

"Just one – _the Adored Siblings' Jagged Edge_", the mentioning of such an _odious_ moniker reminds us of the danger that we're currently in. Sarona goes on to state their reasons for joining us. "We have orders to protect Damien from the Adored Siblings, _Little Thrill and D. Remedy_… And _any_ other Church hostiles. _Also_, after hearing your visions for our company, DC, we wouldn't _dare_ have you killed on your first night as an executive. We always _knew_ you'd step up to the plate like that. The people of Infinity are _very_ proud of you."

"Many thanks, Ronnie", my boy receives a warm hug from the Samoan beauty. The friends release each other, and everyone sees Damien's curious body language. "But, _why_ would you have orders to protect me? I haven't done _anything_ to those Church-people… _Or have I?_"

_"It's not what you've 'done', Day-Day...it's 'what you **are'** that has them hunting you down, little fella", Stephen's knowledge of the situation sends John and every Infinity operative into a state of obvious guilt._

_Damien and I are the only ones that haven't a single clue about what's going on._

"Stephen, _what_ are you guys _hiding_ from us?"

_"Well Stu…Damien is…" Stephen's hesitation allows my boy and me to realize how serious this is. The guilty Irishman proceeds with telling us the truth. "…Damien has Type E + Blood. The Church and Infinity believe him to be an otherworldly being called 'a Crusnik' – a vampire that exhibits monstrous supernatural muscle by feasting on the blood of other vampires. He carries the name of a **very** **dangerous** Crusnik named 'Alexander Broaden Crosse'…"_

**_"Uncle Alex…?"_**_ my boy's psyched-out by the mentioning of his family member's name._

"Yeah, I'm afraid so, little fella", the familiar voice of White Noise sounds from our group's rear. My eyes widen as I look upon the image of… _Drew McIntyre?_ The Scottish wrestler, finely dressed and groomed, joins us with a confident smile and his casual suaveness. "…and knowing that has the Church _shitting_ their trousers. I personally sent my Methuselahs here to safeguard you, little fella. Infinity would lose a _great_ ally if you were to fall tonight. I always _knew_ there was something _special_ about you, DC."

_"Drew…you're–?" I'm in a speechless mode of shock. "Wait a second here… **You're** White Noise?"_

"That's right, Stu. I'm your informant and comrade-at-arms. My children call me 'Father Andrew', but I prefer to be called 'Drew'. It doesn't sound as _snobbish_ and _professional_… I _hate_ being put in that type of crowd."

_"Oh, well, **that** explains a lot", I'm tickled from knowing the truth about the rude informant. "That explicates my suspicions about 'the sharp tongue' and 'rudeness' you've **gracefully** displayed these past few days."_

"Right you are, but that's enough chitchat for now. Methuselahs, escort Brother Damien to Infinity HQ for training ASAP. Stuart, I know you may not like this, but his safety is _top-priority_ right now. Until he discovers his existence power, Damien's life is in _danger_. I'll put in a request for one of our men to assist Damien with his job duties during his stay at Infinity HQ."

_"Is there…**any** other way?" Damien holds onto my waist, burying his head against my heart. I look down to my boy, seeing his handsome profile beaming a comforting smile. "Drew, I'm…**not** very comfortable with this."_

"_None_ of us are, Stu", Natalie extends her personal concerns as the founder of Infinity _and_ as a devoted friend. She looks at Damien and indirectly speaks her mind. "As the oldest member and founder of our group, I was friends with _both_ Lady Miriam Neumann and Damien's uncle, Lord Alexander Crosse. Damien's uncle means the _world_ to me, and so does our favorite little executive. I look to Damien as if he were _my_ _own_ _son_, and I'll do _everything_ in my political power to make sure that he remains unharmed during his training. So, Methuselahs, follow Damien to his hotel room and help him gather his things. After that, escort him to Infinity HQ's hideaway house with the liberated wharfies and assassination survivors. _Finally_, Brother John…"

"Yes, your majesty?" the pretty-faced nightwalker becomes attentive.

"Follow the Methuselahs to Infinity HQ. We want you to become one of our radicals. You're scheduled to appear for employment by 9:30 AM… John, despite your past, everyone at Infinity HQ welcomes you with open arms."

"_Thanks_…that sounds _wonderful_, your majesty", they shake hands like proper associates should.

"In my eyes, you _already_ have the job. I wish you well."

"DC, is there _anything_ you want to say to your man before you leave?" Drew's kind extension of male sensitivity causes Damien to look into my eyes.

_My boy speaks to me with encouraging word and tone._

_"Daddy, don't you go and start crying on me. I'll be back soon…I promise."_

_"Now you know I can't promise you that I won't cry", my eyes are already starting to water, feeling as if I'm losing him. "Damien, I don't **care** what you are…you'll **always** be my little boy. Call me every night, love?"_

_"Okay, Daddy", he buries his head on my heart, and I embrace him with stubborn arms._

_I don't want to let him go… I don't think I'm capable of doing that._

"Let's go, Damien", pushes Brother Randal. "The Church has _no_ _mercy_ for those that they fear."

"Okay, Randy."

Damien lets go of me, but I hesitate… Not being near each other's going to be the _hardest_ relationship trial we'll have to face… But, then again, I can't really say that for sure. Who _knows_ what will become of this?

The Methuselahs proceed with escorting John and Damien from the premises, en route to Infinity HQ, leaving the rest of us to our daily routine.

_Damien looks back to me with tearful eyes, showing me the handsome smile that never leaves his face._

"It'll be all right, Stu", my ginger bud gives me a fatherly pat on my back. "Chin up, fella. He'll be back in no time…just as if it were an overnight stay."

_"Excuse me…I need to be alone for a while", I excuse myself from my comrades, allowing them to see me in my lowest form._

Theodore, the most concerned member of my circle of friends, becomes worried about my well-being.

_"Babes, you think he'll be all right by himself?"_

"Yeah, TJ… Stu's just a big fellow who has to let his little boy go for a while. He'll be fine, but let's _try_ not leave him alone for _extended_ periods of time."

"Aye, Stu's quite the hardheaded fella, but he's _real_ sensitive", Drew agrees with the former queen's words. "The Adored Siblings are _sure_ to come after _him_ first. He and Damien are the weakest of the group, but they're _well_ informed of the couple's potential superpower. Until our existences are bothered again, let's retreat to our rooms for the night."

"Good idea, White Noise. Let's hit the hay… This old girl's pretty damn tired."

The Infinity associates return to their designated hotel rooms, and I return to a very empty suite on the third floor of the Astoria… I fell asleep within the hour and slept for another six. My dreams were _all_ about Damien. _One_ of the dreams stood out to me… _Wedding bells and heavenly décor, friends and family members filling the benches of a chapel, music playing, happiness abound, a wedding party, a minister and several tributes to our flourishing love…_

_…In that beautiful world of reveries, we exchanged vows and were married – a gentle vision that I one day hope to make a reality._

* * *

><p>I wasn't able to thank Raj for his heroic deeds due to the shock of finding out the truth… That my boy is something called <em>"a Crusnik"<em> – a vampire that feasts on the blood of other vampires, and gains unimaginable power in the process. So, I found Raj's number in my contacts and phoned him up.

_Remembering my current mental state, Brother Yuvraj answers from the quiet of his hotel bed._

_"What's up, Stu?"_

"I forgot to extend my gratitude for you saving my boy today. That was quite rude of me."

_"Think nothing of it, my friend. And don't worry, Stu – DC will be just fine."_

"I really do hope so, Raj. I've _never_ left his side, and the notion of him being away _even_ for a short period of time…_has me feeling a little anxious and sad_."

_"How do you think **I** feel about my wife? Trust me, men like us – we're **all** like that. We play 'big and bad' in front of others, but our **balls** fall off when we have someone good that **has** to leave us for a while. I know what you were feeling at the time – it's like he was going off to join the army, and there was **nothing** you could do or say about it. The only thing you could feel and believe: 'he'll probably never come back'. Am I right?"_

_"Yeah, you're right on the ball with that", I've never cried on the phone to another man, except for my boy. It's a little embarrassing…no, scratch that…it's **very** embarrassing. "I probably sound like some kind of sissy right now, **but** **I miss my boy goddammit!** I keep on having dreams about marrying him, and it's driving me insane! I've **never** been in this state before, and I…I…I don't what else to say …"_

Being a man that can relate to my situation, _and_ one who's been in this mental state before, Brother Yuvraj levels himself with me through his words.

"There's _no_ possible way that I can tell you not to cry, Stu. Men have _a_ _hard time_ expressing their feelings to another man – it's just the way that we are. _But_, I can tell you this…"

_"What is it, Raj?" my voice has become watery and melancholic._

"He's coming back… It may not be today, it's may not be tomorrow. But, I _promise_ you this – he's coming back to you. He's separated from us _because_ of the Church, and _because of the concerns_ of our fellow Infinity associates. That should be enough reason for your blood to become _more_ _powerful_… Paradise City is an existence that is _empathically_ linked to its user. If the user feels any type of human or inhuman emotion, _it_ feels the same thing. Anger, sadness, grief, pain, suffering, fatigue, depression, guilt… Joy, peace, benevolence, elatedness, glee, and even a burst of energy… Paradise City is _'an extension of your heart'_. If you use the pain of your sadness to your advantage, you could _probably_ tap into your existence's _true muscle_. Use that new power to _smite_ the people that caused _your_ _boy_ to have to leave you for a while. It'd be _a_ _righteous_ _act_ in the eyes of a man…that discovered the true strength of his existence _using_ _that very same method_."

_So, Paradise City…is also an existence tied to my emotions…_

_Father Yuvraj is on the ball, once again… If I use my emotions to my advantage, I could **probably** become a stronger existence user. I've recently discovered my instincts, but it's high-time that I learn how to use Paradise City's **full** potential. In the succeeding battles, I **don't** want to become a burden to my friends…**especially** to my boy._

"Thanks for talking to me, Raj."

_"Eat something and get some rest. I'll have you join me for breakfast. I think it'd be good if we became closer friends, Stuart. We've got a **lot** in common, you and I… I even think it'd be **fun** if we became an onscreen tag-team. Just picture it: Jinder Mahal and Wade Barrett – 'the World Tag-Team Champions'."_

"I _like_ the sound of that", I'm tickled by his enthusiastic vision.

_"Alright, I'll see you for 8:30 AM. We'll catch an early meal, spend some time together, and join up with everyone else around the afternoon time. Osborne City has a lot of sights for us to see."_

"Thanks again, new chum."

_"Have a good night, my friend", we end our conversation on a good note._

_Well, it appears that I've found myself a new friend in Brother Yuvraj. I **need** more men in my life that I can somehow learn from. I never knew my father that well, so having more mature men to lead me on a straight and narrow path in life… Well, that **really** helps out in the long run._

_Hmm? **Why** is my existence being bothered?_

_"Had a nice little nap, abomination?" a recognizable voice stands me to my feet and turns my vision to the hotel window at my rear. My eyes widen at the sight of the Usos **rudely** idling on my balcony's lounge chairs. Joshua speaks up for his party. "We're sorry about DC being taken away from you, but I **guess** that saves us the job of having to kill him… **You**, on the other hand – we'd like **nothing** **more** than to see you **die** under the evening's red moon. It was the birth of **your** kind that started this war, and the Church wishes us to bring **your** **head** back to HQ on a stake… We'd **love** to get that promotion, if you know what I mean."_

_"I've would've **never** guessed…"_ knowing of the brotherly relationship that my boy has with these insolent Samoan twins quite well, my heart is greatly troubled. Still, it looks like I've no choice in the matter. I _have_ to engage in combat against these fools. If not, I'm a dead man for sure… These nightmarish twins never liked me, criticized my relationship with Damien, and have always attempted to make my life a living hell. I have to kill them…I have to take their life under this red moon. _"…I would've **never** guessed it – you two barging into my suite to kill me, knowing **well** what that'd do to Damien! I've **never** liked you smug, arrogant, haughty bastards. You parade around like your shit smells like a garden of roses because you're members of the Anao'i wrestling family… But, you're nothing more than **exposable** **jobbers** for the progression of main-eventers' storylines! I know that Damien will be mad at me for this, **but I'd rather die than be to seen with the likes of two hairless jungle apes like you!**"_

The Adored Siblings intensely shoot me burning-eyed ogles of humored bloodlust.

**_"United as one! Jagged Edge!"_**_ the mighty call of the delinquent twin nightmares causes a clear, watery territory to spread from their bodies. I look around to see that I've been trapped inside of 'their' Purgatory of horrors. Currently, I'm unaware of what their first deadly feat will be. "Let's take this to the street. We don't want to leave your hotel room in a bloody mess."_

_All of a sudden, I'm spontaneously lifted off of my feet by a fierce gale! The vicious funnel of wind violently carries me over the outside balcony! Using my natural control over the air, I am able to break free of the ferocious airstream with a lateral parting of my arms. The wind safely carries me to the ground, where I'm gently placed on my feet._

_"Of all the nerve!" I've grown to be piping mad because of these buffoons' barbaric antics._

_I look up to see the most **extraordinary** feat._

_The Adored Siblings are soaring through the air upon rollerblades, clad in full-body metallic suits of armor and matching helmets… My word! **They're** the people that took out Lady Gloria and the other traffic jam victims…?_

_Oh crap! This **isn't** going to be pretty!_

_The siblings roughly land on their blades, enduring a fall from a height of 20 feet in the air – a level of altitude that'd be humanly **impossible** to survive without a proper support system. The twin nightmares roll to a sudden halt at my rear, and I turn around to face my first real battle._

_"This is going to be…" begins the burning-eyed Jonathan._

_"…one **hell** of a party", ends Joshua in the same manner._

I prepare myself for battle by cracking the itch from my knuckles.

_"You want 'a party', boys?" I sarcastically oblige their eccentric sense of humor with a little of my own. I stand in bareknuckle position, ready to rearrange their faces with a good socking. "I've got a few 'hits' that are **sure** to get you mangy mutts dancing! Now…**I've had enough of your futile trash talk! Have at you!**"_

**_"With pleasure!"_**_ the Adored Siblings jet forth on their blades, and I ferociously leap forward, riding the wind with a beastly intent to kill!_

__The battle begins with a righteous fury…**and will end** **with blood**.__

* * *

><p><strong><em><em>(Ending Theme <em>___– "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)__**

* * *

><p><strong><em><em>(Up Next: Chapter 6 – I Promise)<em>_**


	7. Chapter 6: I Promise

_**BLOOD/Night**_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Opening Theme – "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<em>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 6 – <strong>**I Promise**_

* * *

><p><em>The Infinity HQ Hideaway House – a sanctuary to survivors and victims of the Church's twisted endeavors.<em>

Located in the center of operations' northernmost parts, the arena-sized edifice harbors people who've been torn from their homes, or have had their _homes_ torn from them… The unspeakable nightmares they've experienced throughout their _"individual_ _eras of trials"_ could very well send a sound man to a mental institute. The nail-biting horrors that these people previously witnessed makes my grandfather's campfire stories seem like meager fairytales. Much like my current situation, their eyes were _opened_ to the truth – vampires are _far_ from being the glorified products of numerous writers' penmanship.

_One can understand "why" the Church would want to prey upon these kindhearted innocents._

Look at them – they _glow_ with life and vitality. Slave drivers and predators _enjoy_ the pleasures of hunting "live game", and _the thrill of the pursuit_ sends them into a frenzied state. Some aren't even _old_ _enough_ to morally bare children, yet _even_ the pleasures of virginity have been robbed from them. These men, women and children are _living_ _proof_ that the Church _and_ Lord Valdo von Dracula's cause is _eons away_ from being _"just"_.

_"This is your dorm room, DC. I hope you like it."_

Father Andrew unlocks the door to the selected dormitory, opens it up and allows Damien to see a neat and tidy studio-sized setup. My boy walks into the living area of the dorm room, being _fascinated_ by its color coding and interior designing.

"Oh, well _this_ is a quaint little resting place", my boy seems to be pleased with his temporary living arrangements, having been placed in _'the_ _Maximum Security Ward'_ of the Hideaway House. My boy ventures to the bedroom, takes the tidiest bed as his own, and rests his bottom for a spell. It feels good – _finally_ having a nice, comfy mattress to help him relax his nerves. _"Ah… This mattress feels like heaven."_

"Good to see you've grown to like the little place, DC" the wise and suave Scottish informant approaches my boy, having a seat right next to him. Drew places his strong left arm around Damien's shoulders, fathering him with kind words. "Now _don't_ you hesitate to call me, boy. I've got to perform _'some procedures'_ on you to start you up on my training program in the morning. Your roommate will be here in a few minutes… Until then, get some shuteye, little fella. We don't want you returning to Stu with crow's feet."

_The mentioning of the word "procedures" has my boy a little antsy._

"Um…did you just say '_procedures'_?" asks my boy with a nervous titter.

"_Nanomachines_. In order for my technology to work, you _have_ to have the proper nanomachines in your system, or the equipment _won't_ _work_ for you. It's a painless operation and there're _no_ side effects whatsoever."

"_No side effects, you say?"_

"My scientific expertise has_ all national governments_ knocking at my doorstep", Father Andrew lays Damien's back against the comfy mattress, resting my boy's head on a soft pillow. For the first time, Sweets gazes into the _entrancing_ _eyes_ of a nightwalker… Damien is instantly placed under a deep, _deep_ psychological spell. Drew's voice sounds like a gentle whisper, almost like a dream. _"Close your eyes, Damien. I promise – when you wake up, you will think yourself…to be living in a dream."_

"_Drew…I'm not…tired…yet…"_

"_Rest your head, boy…rest your head…"_

Damien's consciousness fades in deep, peaceful and quiet slumber. The seasoned nightwalker sits up from my boy, leaving Damien with a gentle caressing of his long and silky mane.

Father Andrew stands from the mattress, excuses himself from Damien's dorm, and locks the door on his way out. The nightwalker runs into a young adult Englishman of Senegalese descent, heading west towards Infinity HQ's main building. The young man just so happens to be the mad scientist's _apprentice_.

_"Mr. N'Dour_, how're things going in the lab?"

"_Just fine, sir", answers the young man with a rough English accent._

"Have you began restoration on the Methuselahs' circuitry?"

_"First thing done, Father Andrew."_

"Good, good. Your new roommate's resting, so don't bother him. He's _very_ _important_ to Infinity, and I want you to _play nice_ with him during his stay with us. He'll _only_ be here for a few days."

_"Oh…he's just a temp?" the young man seems to be hurt by the notion._

"Don't get all sour-faced, puppy. When you become _a full-fledged scientist_, you'll be able to travel with me out of the headquarters. For now, just enjoy your stay here. I know what it's like – _I_ was once a shy lad myself."

_"Okay…well, goodnight, sir", the young apprentice departs from his mentor, receiving the nightwalker's suave smile as a parting gesture._

_Father Andrew departs from the Hideaway House with an uneasy disposition._

_The Scottish informant comes to a halt in front of the entrance of the edifice, looking up to what appears to be the image of a man in a trench coat and matching hat hovering in midair._

_"How's my nephew, Drew?"_

"The little kitten's doing just fine, Al", the informant recognizes the man's voice as belonging to Damien's infamous kinsman. "Glad to see you've _finally_ decided to show your face after all this time."

_"_…_When can I see him? I have __**so**__ much to apologize about."_

"In due time, old friend. Don't meditate on it – after my _experiment_–"

_"You're planning to experiment on __**my**__ nephew?" the Crusnik's eyes glow with a faint crimson light, signaling the displeasure of hearing his friend's intentions. "He's not some guinea pig for your madman's games, Drew. If you so much as harm a single __**hair**__ on his head, I'll __**decorate**__ the pavement with your lifeblood."_

"This is just like you, Al… For Christ's sake, what ya being so _anxious_ for, ya old goat? Besides, my _'madman's games'_ worked on _you_…didn't they?"

_The infamous Crusnik folds his arms, recalling the experiment that helped him to control his bloodlust._

"I thought so, old friend", Father Andrew can see behind the dark veil of his bestfriend's silhouette, and is _amused_ by Alexander's moral conceding. "Trust me, Al. I would never, _ever_ hurt the little lad. I'd take my _own_ life before I claimed his… Our friendship's that strong – _stronger_ than it was when I first met him. He doesn't remember me…_but I held that little angel when he was no older than six months_. If I've _got_ to go as far as experimentation to help him, well…that's just something that'll _have_ to be done to the _best_ of my abilities."

Being the stubborn old fool that he is, the eccentric Lord Alexander concedes to Drew's scientific motives…but _not_ without a hint of doubt.

_"Do right by my nephew…and I won't have to claim your life", the infamous Crusnik spreads his batwings and ascends into the moonlit night sky._

"_Ooh_…_that_ little threat had me _shaking_ _in my loafers_", the sarcastic child of the night continues his venture towards his apartment, located in the westernmost parts of Infinity HQ.

* * *

><p><em>My confrontation with the Adored Siblings has reached a level of intensity…that I wasn't mentally <strong>or<strong> physically prepared for._

The nightmarish twins' synchronized front is _spellbinding_ – a rhythmic array of athleticism, inhuman dexterity, incredible endurance, monstrous bodily strength, and _mesmerizing_ supernatural muscle… All are delivered with _deadly_ precision. Their existence of the wind, **_Jagged Edge_**, _prevents_ me from activating Paradise City… I can't find _a large enough time interval_ between their synchronized attack patterns – _it's as if they're coming from everywhere!_

_Then again…maybe I could somehow… Yes, I've got it!_

_"Is **that** all you've got? Hit me as hard as you **possibly** can, you sissies!"_

My graceful display of arrogance rouses the airborne extremists. The Adored Siblings separate from each other, dancing through the air like preying vultures upon gathered airstreams.

_"Ooh, looks like **somebody** just grew a set", Jonathan soars through the air, rollerblading across the clear airstreams with the greatest of ease. The nimble extremists leap from their airstreams, joining their adjacent hands, whilst skating down towards my grounded body. "If you want to die so badly, then we're **more** than honored to take you out of your misery, abomination!"_

_"Say your prayers, Bennett!" seconds the equally excited Joshua._

_Yes, that's it… Get **angry** with me – use your existence to **push** me away!_

_The twins aim their remote fists at my grounded body, unleashing a powerful maelstrom from their opening palms… **Perfect!** Just what I needed – a one-way ticket to **sudden** victory!_

**_"Die…!"_**_ the excited twins know not what they're just done._

I needed _a_ _large_ _enough_ time interval to activate Paradise City's territory… The twins' anger has sent forth a repulsing wind that'll give me enough time to summon my existence…_at full power_.

_I hold my forearms in front of my body, shielding myself with what appears to be…**a protective field of sunlight?** What on earth **is** this…? Is…Paradise City protecting me, whilst I'm being viciously carried away by Jagged Edge's unforgiving wind?_

_Forget it… It doesn't matter. I've gained **enough** space, so **now's** the time!_

**_"Expand! Paradise City!"_**_ my territory of the sun spreads from my airborne frame, covering an** astounding 1000-meter radius expansion area**. The Adored Siblings are caught within my sunny Purgatory, being physically prostrated by the supernatural pressure of the metaphysical world. My body comes to a skidding halt, and I'm pretty damn lucky to still be wearing my slacks and dress shoes. That landing could've peeled the skin clear off of my feet. "Well, **that** was one **hell** of a 'party', boys. I must say – I had quite the **smashing** time engaging in this little dance of ours. However, our dance of death's about to come to **'a bloody** **grand finale'**."_

_"What…have you…**done** to us?" Jonathan is leveled to his hands and knees by the sunlight._

_"Where's this…light **coming** from?" Joshua feels his skin suffering minor burns._

I take the liberty of explaining what Paradise City's mentally telling me.

_"This light is a gateway for 'a very special someone' to come and say 'hello' to you. She's been meaning to take all of your pain away with a warm, and **discomforting** hug."_

_"What the **fuck** are you talking about…?" swears the annoyed Joshua._

_"Make some kind of sense, fool!"_

_"Well, maybe I should let **her** explain it to you first hand… **Come forth, Cruel Angelica!**"_

_A golden interdimensional gateway of sunlight opens before my body, allowing a beautiful maiden of the sun to soar forth on flaming dove's wings. The twins look upon the frightening image of Cruel Angelica's shining beauty, and are unable to escape from her reaping arms of a death. Jonathan and Joshua are embraced by Cruel Angelica…**and are burned to a cinder**._

**_"AAH…!"_**_ the twins' resonant screams light the night sky, awakening the bodies of my slumbering friends._

Natalie sits up in bed, looking out of her window to see a sunlit night sky.

Theodore is alerted by a window-shaped golden light shining on the wall in front of him, sitting up in bed to see his girlfriend approaching the hotel room's opened pane. He joins her, looking down at the Astoria's parking lot to see the image of two _burning_ bodies within Cruel Angelica's flaming embrace. Stephen and Raj beholds the same ghastly image, and my friends simultaneously feel an equal amount of amazement.

The flaming maiden releases the incinerated bodies, returning to the world beyond her sunlit gateway… The cremated bloodsuckers' death may cost our company a small penny, but nothing more than that. Disposable employees are of little worth to the _cheeky_ _bastards_ working in the headquarters of this _cutthroat_ _business_.

_Then again, those buffoons haven't tasted the cold steel of the reaper's scythe just yet… I'll explain that in a minute to my friends, who are already leaping from their balconies to join me in the parking lot._

Natalie, Theodore, Stephen and Yuvraj come to a soft landing, being carried safely to their feet by a gentle wind. I turn on my heel to face them upon their arrival.

"Well, it took you long enough", I initiate the conversation with witty commentary.

_"Stu, don't tell me these guys are–?" Steve is impressed with what he sees lying behind me in a smoking, cremated pile. Everyone recognizes the image of the Adored Twins' true identity. "The Adored Twins…**are the Usos?** And you killed them just like that, in **less** than 3 minutes…?"_

I _love_ it when I get the ginger boy going. Seeing him like this is downright funny, but _now's_ not the time for meaningless laughter. I guess I can explain _a little_ of what's transpired.

"Sorry, but these are mere corpses now… Their _souls_ have been sent elsewhere – somewhere inside of my existence's _'second Purgatory'_."

"A _second_ Purgatory?" everyone appears to be fascinated, especially Father Yuvraj. "Stuart, how did you manage to obtain a second Purgatory in such a _short_ span of time?"

"You said it best, Raj – I used _'my anger and sadness'_ to my advantage, and _'my Cruel Angelica'_ came forth. They seemed pitiful to me, and _all_ pitiful souls should be comforted with _'warm embrace'_."

Natalie remembers the rumors about Paradise City – the stories of the existence of the sun that possesses _several_ unique supernatural traits.

_"The second Purgatory – a trait found exclusively in the repertoire of sun existence users. It is said that the Cruel Angelica is** a manifestation of Mother Mary**, and her flaming aureole's so powerful that it can fry a bloodsucker to **a** **crisp**. However, she only frees the embraced of the darkness inside of their hearts, leaves behind 'a corrupted corpse', and returns to the world beyond her sunlit gate to recreate the embraced into good souls. Jonathan and Joshua **aren't** dead – they're being reborn to fit the perfect image of God's people. That's the reason behind the name 'Cruel Angelica' – the embraced is **forced** to be cleansed by a holy sunlit flame."_

"So, the Lord's old lady came out of a sunlit portal and _hugged_ the bastards to glory?" my favorite ginger bud's pretty tickled by the notion – _the Cruel Angelica's bizarre healing power_. "_Ha!_ Leave it to Stu to possess such a _strange_ existence."

_"Are we being **jealous** now, old man?"_

"Not on your life, fella. If anything, I'm pretty damn proud of you… We _all_ knew you had it in ya, bro."

"Yes, well… I guess I've surprised _myself_ tonight. I'm feeling a bit sluggish now. I think I'll return to my room for the evening. Oh, before the thought leaves me, are we still up for that outing, Raj?"

"Of course", confirms my new friend with a delighted smile.

"I'm looking forward to it. For some peculiar reason, my tummy's _aching _for bacon after seeing all of that… I bid you all goodnight."

We separate for the evening with the usual "goodnights" and "have sweet dreams" talk, as the corrupted corpses are reduced to a cremated ash. A gentle wind passes by, carrying the ashes away within its cruel breeze of irony… It's amazing how karma works its magic – the Adored Siblings were _users of the wind_, and _that very same gale_ does the honors of guiding their impure ashes to _an unknown final resting place_.

* * *

><p><em>("So…<strong>he's<strong> my new roommate?") N'Dour entered his dorm a little over 10 minutes ago, and has since been eying my sleeping boy. Curious and slightly nervous in nature, N'Dour keeps a few meters of distance between him and his new roommate. He sits down on his mattress, gently kicking off his work shoes. N'Dour allows his feet to breathe, but his eyes become fixated on my boy's image, examining Damien's buxom frame. ("**Yikes!** He must workout a lot… I wish I had **that** kind of figure. **I'm** about as skinny as a twig.")_

Damien tosses in his bed, turning his back to N'Dour's curious vision.

The young man examines my boy's bottom, being impressed with its muscular and plump build.

_("**Whoa!** You could play **a bloody drum solo** on that thing! **Geez…** What does he **eat** to get a backyard like **that**?")_

"Are you going to stare at me all night?" N'Dour's nearly startled out of his wits by the sound of my boy's drowsy voice. Damien sits up in bed, wiping the nocturnal glare from his eyes. N'Dour's breathing stutters in awe of how _beautiful_ my boy's profile is. My cute little brown sugar beams a gentle, somnolent grin at the apprentice. "You should learn to be more quiet, dear. It's rather _late_ to be making a ruckus."

"I'm sorry about that… Oh, how _rude_ of me. My name's _Youssou N'Dour_ – Father Andrew's apprentice and a liberated Gideonite. I wish we could've met on _better_ _terms_ than this."

"Charmed, dear. My name's _Damien Crosse_ – I'm a friend of Infinity HQ, currently under the supervision of your mentor. He says he has a few _'experiments'_ to perform on me before we begin my training… I'm not so sure about this – _letting_ _a senile old man_ _stick nanomachines in me_. I'm kind of uneasy."

_"Father Andrew's a genius, Damien. You're in good hands with him."_

"Yes, well…_despite_ your noisiness, it's still a pleasure to meet you", my boy's always been lenient with others, ignoring small mistakes and looking at _'the bigger picture'_. Damien sees that N'Dour's a _very_ polite young man, and that he's mindful of his mistakes _and_ victories… That's a _plus_ in Sweets' book of merits. However, as if it weren't expected, Brother N'Dour's eyes have _yet_ to leave my boy's cute profile. "What's wrong, Brother N'Dour? Do I have a _zit_ on my face?"

Brother N'Dour adorably flushes, bashfully turning his back to my boy's image.

_"Oh, um…no…you're face…is just fine and…pretty", my boy stands up from his bed, walks up to the young man and begins teasing the Senegalese native._

_Damien moves his lips close to Brother N'Dour's right ear, making the young man's hormones **race** ferociously. With a simple light blow to the eardrum, the apprentice is comically knocked backwards into my boy's arms… That has to be the **cutest**, if not **silliest** display of male inhibition my boy's seen in **quite** some time._

_"Well, **you're** quite the excitable one", my boy's tickled by Brother N'Dour's shy nature._

_"So…pretty…" the boy faints, unable to take the intensity of his attraction to my beautiful lover._

_"Funny – you remind me of Stuey when I first met him. He was quite the **bashful** little kissy-faced brute. Don't you worry, Brother N'Dour… As far as I'm concerned, you're all right with me. Let's be off to bed now, dear."_

Damien helps the young man to his bed, covering him with his comforter. The air conditioning unit's been switched on, and a warm blanket will be needed to keep Brother N'Dour from catching a cold… My boy's already catering to the young man like a protective elder brother.

Damien's found himself a new friend – a bashful English apprentice of Senegalese descent. Damien _adores_ the wary types. My boy extended that little detail to me when I first met him, and I slowly grew out of my rosy-cheeked personality with time… Still, Damien doesn't realize how lucky he is to meet Brother N'Dour.

_Brother N'Dour may not **look** like he could… but he's going to **save** my boy's life one day._

* * *

><p>"The Adored Siblings were…<strong><em>killed?<em>**" the King can't _believe_ the news that his informant, _White Album – the Chanter of Elegies_, has just reported to him in person. The hooded clergyman is knelt before his king, humbly explaining the disturbing testaments of _"several watchful eyes'_. The King calms down, impressed by the muscle his former wife has gathered up during the past 500 years. "_Katherine…_ She was always the _luckier_ one out of us. I guess I shouldn't be as _surprised_ as I am right now, but I _just_ can't believe it…_ Little Thrill and D. Remedy –_ **_they_**_ **were defeated by a fledgling half-bred rat?**_"

"It's not too hard to believe, your excellency. Lord Jonathan _also_ possessed an existence of the sun, but his was _much_ more powerful than Mr. Bennett's."

_"If his existence is so **weak**, then why did **two** of the Church's best clergyman **fall so quickly?**"_

"It appears that his vampire instincts are _very_ advanced, and his in-ring experience only _adds_ _more fuel_ _to his flaming fighting sense_", White Album receives a resentful stare from the King, but remains cool-headed in the face of such a dangerous man. The handsome bloodsucker looks into the eyes of the angered royal with an emotionless stare, much to the King's annoyance. "I hope you're not too disturbed by this. The Church's doing the very _best_ it can to protect both you _and_ Lord Valdo from Infinity's _blasphemous_ _wrath_."

_"Sometimes, I **really** **doubt** that, Father Christian. I'm starting to become **annoyed** with these repeated failures… You clergyman have done **nothing** but disappoint me. **Stop** sending out **weaklings** – I want to see **positive** **results** from your next move, and I **won't** tolerate **any** **more** **failures!** …Is that **understood**, Father Christian?"_

"Crystal clear, your excellency", the well-mannered clergyman rises to his feet, remembering that he has a match tonight in Willington. He looks at his wristwatch, realizing that it's almost time for us to be headed over the road to the next house show. "_2:33 PM already?_ I guess I better get a move on, your excellency. I've a job to do this evening that requires me _to_ _step_ _from_ _behind_ the commentator's table."

_"I thought you were planning to retire soon, old man."_

"_Retire, you say?_ …Well, that'd take _all_ _the_ _fun_ out of my job. I think I'll wait _another_ _year_ before I decide to hang up my ring gear. Besides, it's a _great_ stress reliever –_ smashing the skulls of human competitors_."

_The King is tickled by the wise bloodsucker's stubborn personality. Father Christian has yet to lose his competitor's spirit, especially since he has a **lot** of loose energy to work off. His hunger for action surpasses his age, though he still appears as he did 500 years ago._

"If you feel up to the challenge, you have my blessings", the King wishes his informant well.

_"Thank you, your excellency. I'll be on my way now."_

"Godspeed, old boy", Father Christian bows to his King, and excuses himself from Henry's throne room.

Henry of Aldington despises the transpired events… _Little Thrill and D. Remedy were like sons to him_. It was _the King himself_ that trained the twins to use their existence of the wind, _Jagged Edge_, with such _deadly_ precision. The King's cruel conditioning made the boys two of the _most_ _feared_ members of the Church, but my _inexperienced_ _existence_ miraculously took them out in _less_ than 3 minutes. Henry of Aldington just _can't_ comprehended it –_ the Adored Siblings' chances of victory were **so much** **higher** than mine_.

_The King remembers my lineage, and reflects on the situation._

_("Frederic's blood was of a very **powerful** class, and it appears as if the fledgling's inherited that very same power – **the dreaded existence of the sun…** Still, Jonathan was **no match** for my **Dark Side Moon**. I know how to **defeat** that half-bred eyesore – **take **away his sunlight, and leave him **covered in** **darkness**… He's **sure** to fall into my hands, his identity being **erased** in the process… **Yes…** He will become **my** **slave**, **just** as his infamous ancestor did those precious 500 years ago.")_

_A set of black dress shoes sound from the King's right, catching the old nightwalker's attention. King Henry smiles at the sight of his slave, who stands obscured by the darkness of the halls leading to the eastern wing._

_"…When can I see them, old boy?" the obscured slave parts his chops, carnivorously displaying a glistening set of hungry fangs. "I want to give my son a hug… And I'd like nothing more than to **hold** my grandson. An old man like me can become quite **lonesome**, you know… It's not fair, Henry."_

"_Patience, heretic_…you'll see them soon enough. I've done good by you, giving you a place to _hide_ for all of these years. Please, return to your chambers and continue conditioning your dark existence."

_"I've grown **weary** of hiding and training, your majesty", the slave's obscure existence surfaces onto his skin as a gentle, midnight-colored gale. "Be a good old boy – let me travel out of the castle sometime, Henry. I'd **love** to pay my children a visit sometime."_

"Return to your chambers, lest you wish to be _punished_", the King blinks his eyes once, and the slave's already disappeared from his sight. Henry of Aldington's impressed by the supernatural muscle of the slave's _'dark existence'_. The senile old fool lounges in his throne, realizing that the impure heretic will do him a lot of good in the days to come. _("Katherine… You may've gained a lot of loyal allies and friends, but they will **not** be able to save you from my slave's destructive existence… If you've grown to respect the fledgling's Paradise City…you'll grow to **fear** **my** **Dietrich's existence of the black sun** – **Dark Child**.")_

_A **"Dietrich"**…? What the hell is **"a Dietrich"**?_

_And did he say…**"an existence of the black sun"?**_

__Good Lord! **What has that senile old geezer done to my grandfather?** I may not know what's going on right now because I'm currently enjoying an outing with my friends… However, I'm sure to find out **soon** enough.__

* * *

><p>Infinity HQ sent us the word –<em> Grandfather Christopher's been watching us from the darkness… <em>For some strange reason, I can _feel_ him protecting me from the shadows. His eyes are loving…and it feels as if I've met him _somewhere_ before. I've yet to see his face, but that's all about to change…

_…Natalie, Theodore, Stephen, Yuvraj and I are entering a local restaurant to wait for the return of my boy._

"Looks like they've gotten rid of the _'night menu'_ – thank God", the former queen examines the restaurant's menu, seeing that Brother Randal's work has brought an end to the human-manufactured delicacies found around Europe… Probably the entire world, for that matter. Natalie places her menu down, having picked out her order… But it appears as if the ageless beauty's heavily troubled by something. _"It's been two days since Damien left, and we haven't heard a **single** word from him. Geez… What's that senile old fool **doing** to the boy – making him jump through 1-million hurdles?"_

"Calm down, Babes. Father Andrew's probably got him going through simulation. The report said that Damien's nanomachines have been inserted, and–"

_"Nanomachines…?" everyone is silenced by my outrage, and shoots TJ a sharp stare for running his big mouth – one of his most noticeable bad habits. "**That rock-voiced old fool put fucking nanomachines in my boy's body?** Wait until I see his ugly mug… I'll smash his **head** open!"_

_My strength jumps ahead of my anger, bending my fork into an L-shaped._

_The guys are obviously uncomfortable with what I've just done – they're crossing their legs, making it seem as if their sex drive's just been cut in half. They try to pull a cool face, but that doesn't help them much._

_Natalie, on the other hand, isn't intimidated by my anger… She's more concerned than afraid._

"Stuart, Father Andrew did that to allow his technology to work on Damien. His cybernetic and biogenetic expertise is without comparison. Watch – I'm going to send you a video of Damien's _current_ progression."

_Nattie pulls out her cellphone, looks through her text messages, and forwards a video to me._

_It's received 15 seconds after she presses the SEND button._

"Take a look at it, Stu", I pull out my cellphone and look at my messages, seeing a new one from Natalie's mobile. The message is opened, and I'm _instantly_ _astounded_ by the footage. Natalie smiles at how impressed my reaction is. "_See?_ I told you – he's just being conditioned. Drew would never, _ever_ hurt the boy."

_"I…can't believe what I'm seeing… This…is **my** **boy**?"_

"He'll be coming back today, fella", Stephen confirms the arrival of my boy, as a lovely young waitress joins us. "Well, it's about time you arrived, miss."

_"Good afternoon, my name's Adele – I'll be your waitress today", the young lady takes out a pen and a notepad to record our orders. "So, what will you be having?"_

"Well…let's see…"

Stephen orders the #1 Special, Theodore and Natalie shares an order of the Seafood Platter, Yuvraj tries the #5 Special, and I try my chances with the _Fisherman's_ Salad and Baked Chicken. We're staying away from carbonated drinks, so we each order glasses of water. After that's done, the waitress retrieves our menus and promises us a waiting period of 5 to 10 minutes.

_10 minutes later, Damien didn't arrive… But, we received our meals and we did eat them._

_My Fisherman's Salad was top-dollar in taste, and the Baked Chicken was so good that I ordered a **second** helping to take with me over the road. I had an extra 3 dollars to spare, and I'm not one to complain when it comes to treating myself to something healthy._

* * *

><p><em>When I arrived back to my hotel room, my mobile's ringt<em>_one went off._

_I take the call… My boy's trying to get in touch with me._

"Good afternoon, Sweets. How are you?"

_"We're headed towards the Astoria to meet with you. I've finished my training."_

"What did that bastard do to you? I heard something about _'nanomachines'_ and _nearly_ lost my head."

_"I'm fine, Daddy", my boy's tickled by my apprehension. "Calm down, Stuey… Nothing's changed about me at all. I'm still 'your boy', my handsome puppy face."_

"Not from what _I've_ seen. You looked quite frightening, love… Your skin was white and your hair was gray. Your eyes were colored with a faint crimson glow, your ears were pointed, your teeth became like hungry fangs, you had creepy wings coming out of your back… Lord, I don't know _where_ to stop."

_"That's my 'transformed state', dear", my boy giggles in amusement, and I crack a few chuckles of my own. I was frightened by the sight of Damien as a Crusnik, but I was humored by the fact that he looked like he was all dressed up for Halloween. "I'm going to be able to fight at your side now, so don't go trying to stop me. I'm capable of handling my own in and out of the ring… But, you already know that."_

_"Yes, you're still **the undisputed 'Bed Wrestling Champion of the World'** in my eyes", my fresh sense of humor makes my boy holler in laughter. Father Andrew beams a warm smile at my boy, happy to see that he's enjoying his first conversation with me as a bonified Crusnik. "So, would you like to celebrate your awakening when you get back? Just you and me? You know – the usual?"_

"Do you _always_ think about sex, you naughty little boy?"

_"Just when it comes to you, Sweets. I'd make love to you for all eternity if I could."_

"That's very sweet of you, Daddy. _At least I know that_ _I'm_ _the **only** one turning your gears_."

_"Mm, yes. But, oh well… I guess 'the next best thing' should do the trick."_

"What's _'the next best thing'_, Daddy?" my boy smiles, being unprepared for what I'm about to ask him.

_"Damien, I know it's been such a short time, but…" I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what I'm about to ask him._

"What is it, Stuart?"

_"Damien Isaiah Crosse, will you do me the honor of becoming my life partner?"_

_The mood sets in for my boy._

_"What did you just ask me?" his voice becomes watery with joyful tears._

_"…Will you marry me, Damien?" _

_When those words escaped my lips, tears began falling from my boy's eyes._

_The "smile that never fades" has become a tearful profile of overwhelmed happiness. It's only been a few months into our relationship, but these past two days seemed like **an** **eternity**. As a man, I've learned a valuable life lesson – one that's kept me restless for the past 48 hours…_

_That lesson is: "there's no way in hell **or** **heaven** for that matter…that I can be without my boy." _

_Take a good look at my current picture: I look like hell, I feel like shit, I haven't shaved and I've grown a handsome beard on my chin. My new growth's starting to surface, showing the soft curl in my hair. I'm usually well-groomed, clean-shaven and smooth as silk. I'm at a peak of emotion that I've **never** been to before in my **entire** life._

_I haven't looked this way in over **8 years**… That alone should say something about me._

_"Daddy…I…" my boy's gone and lost his words._

_"Just think about it, Damien", I understand his speechlessness._

_"But, Stuey…I…"_

_"Just come home to Daddy, love. Here's how you can give me an answer without uttering a **single** word…"_

_"How do I go about doing that?" his voice lightens with curiosity._

_"If you want to marry me soon, give me a kiss and make love to me… If you're not ready, give me a hug and go rest up for our trip to Willington. The choice is yours, love… I'll love you and keep you either way…because I want to be with you **regardless** of your decision. Understood, love?"_

_"Okay…" his voice has lowered with a meditative breath._

_"I'll see you when you get here."_

_"Okay, Daddy."_

_"Where's my kiss?" he blows me a kiss through the phone, and Father Andrew teasingly hoots. Oh what a douchebag. "Could you tell that old **fossil-lipped goat** to shut his **bloody** pie hole?"_

_Damien laughs at Father Andrew, sparking up the old fart's curious pessimism._

"What's that _lily-assed fairy queen_ saying about me?"

Damien puts me on speaker, "Tell him, Daddy."

_"I said 'your mummy gave birth to a hammerhead shark', that's what."_

"Oh, so I'm a _hammerhead_ now, eh fella? Well don't get _bit_ when treading through my waters."

_"I won't 'tread' through your waters. I'll just pull out the stopper and leave you dry. Sharks can't **last** without their 'little swimming pool', after all."_

"Oh, shut up!" the informant's playful snappiness tickles my boy.

_My lover's happy… I guess it's time for me to end this call._

_Besides, Father Andrew's limousine just pulled up into the Astoria's carpool. They're stepping out of the back, being assisted by a duo of helpful young bellhops… Good Lord, my boy's glorious image could make the angels sing._

"I can see you, love", my boy sheepishly giggles, seeing me wave to him from my balcony.

_"Ha-ha! I'm glad you can see me, then… How do I look?"_

"Hmm, how should I put this? Ah, how about, _'look out, Beyoncé'_?", my boy's tickled again, flattered by my sense of humor. I share the little moment of laughter, watching him enter the Astoria with _a man that_ _I've something **very** **important** to ask_. "Oh, I've something to ask Father Andrew, man-to-man…_but that all depends on your decision_."

"What's that?"

_"Don't rush it, love. It's 'the question' that a groom-to-be asks his most trusted. Then again, Stephen's **also** worthy of this question… I really can't decide out of the two of them."_

"Well…just think about it. I'm sure they'd be happy for you, either way."

_"Well, I'm not so sure about."_

"Why's that, Daddy?"

_"Steve's a spoiled old brat and Drew's an argumentative scene queen. I don't think they'd drop it **that** easily, not even if we begged them to."_

"I see… Well, we must take _the_ _positive_ out of the situation. I still think they'd be happy for us. I mean, _sure_, they'd argue about it…but at the end of the day…_they'd look past it_. It's not about _them_…_it's about us, _and they're _far too old_ to be holding grudges over something that _doesn't really matter_."

_Damien and Father Andrew arrive to an elevator, having their luggage carted by the bellboys._

"Stuey, I'm almost there. I'll meet you in a minute or two."

_"Okay, love…I'll be waiting."_

"I know, Daddy."

_"W—here's my kiss?" I ask in a light-hearted, playful voice, making my boy giggle._

"…It's on its way, dear. Hold tight."

_"Alright, Sweets."_

"Smooches for my smooches", the call's ended on a light-hearted note.

* * *

><p>A knock comes from my bedroom door.<p>

I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the best _and_ worst-case scenario. I know Damien, and he's not one to just _jump_ into something blindly… I was probably _stupid_ for asking him that question.

_I open the door to see Damien standing with his luggage in hand...smiling…beautiful._

"Damien, you look _very_ _handsome_…just like you always do."

_"Mind helping me with these **heavy** things, Stuart?" I help my boy with his bags, believing this to be a flat out 'no'. I place his luggage next to the Lay-Z Boy, close the door and lock it… And turn around to the sight of Damien undressing himself, layer by layer. "…Stuey, do you remember what I told you after our first date?"_

"The thought's escaped my mind, dear. The past few days have been _rather_ _rough_ on me."

_Damien's relieved himself of his top, and begins working on his bottoms._

_"Um…could you refresh my memory?" I can feel myself becoming excited, my breathing becoming heavy._

"I told you, _'I'll never break your heart'_, and I meant every word of that", Damien finishes unbuckling his belt, unzips his pants and allows his khakis to hit the floor. He kicks off his work shoes, turns around to me and shows me the body that gets me _'in the mood'_. His voice becomes warm and entrancing. _"I promise… I won't make you regret marrying me, Stuey. Of course, there're 'the little things' – I'll have a few things to learn, and I'll probably make a few mistakes… But always remember this, love: I promise…to never, **ever** break your heart. Now, Stuart Alexander Bennett…make love to me slow and tender – you know how I like it."_

_I take my boy into my arms, lifting him off of the ground by his knees using my fortified leg strength, allowing him to hold onto my shoulders… We share a kiss that leads to the bed. We passionately venture each other's jaws with our tongues, loving each other…deeply **wanting** each other._

_We're soon undressed._

_Shortly thereafter, my boy and I celebrate our engagement with an hour or two of passionate lovemaking. When we've both reached our climax, my free hand ventures underneath my pillow to pull out a ring box. He accepts the 24-karat diamond engagement ring, allowing me to place it on his left hand ring finger._

_He joyfully weeps… This is what he wants – Damien truly wants to be with me…forever._

_I know that this happiness will remain pure and intact, but the days to come will put the well-being of our relationship on the line… The King's become piping angry with his clergymen's work, and will settle for nothing less than positive results; therefore, he'll be dispatching clergyman that are **sure** to bring back the desired outcomes._

_Our battles are sure to become more and more intense with each confrontation. I'd hate to think this way, but the idea's not leaving me… Some of us will probably die in the midst of battle._

_I've been having nightmares about it – the sight of our friends lying in a bloody pool of **death**._

_I'm happy about my engagement, but I'm downright **horrified** of what could happen to our loving circle of friendship at the same time._

_Natalie, Theodore, Andrew, Stephen, Yuvraj, John, Randal, Sarona, Heath, Paul… I care about them a lot, and I want them to be in my wedding party. Of course, we'll have to even out the gender ratio to respect their lifestyle choices, but I still want them there at my side… These wonderful men and women have done nothing but show us the **utmost** support and respect. Their actions exude admiration, care, devotedness and humanity – and my boy's taken a liking to them._

_Still, like I said before – the King's **furious** and, at the moment, my next attacker's watching me like a preying hawk within the endless azure._

_("I cannot fail the King, for I will surely be killed if that happens"), my masked killer is obscured by a thick blanket of clouds, hidden like a preying air-bound viper. ("I take his life come the evening… Estuardo, will you be able to withstand my existence's **blinding** **death**? …What will you **do**, amigo? Can you possibly escape the deadly mist of **the One Obscured by Clouds?**")_

_Who **is** this mysterious, enigmatic clergyman?_

_Will **he** be the one to introduce me to the reaper's cold steel, or will I once again walk away victorious?_

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme – "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Up Next: Chapter 7 – Shine On You Crazy Diamond)<em>**


	8. Chapter 7: Shine On You Crazy Diamond

_**[Personal Note about Chapter: This is my tribute to Chapters 154 - 159 of the Jojo's Bizarre Adventure manga series: a 6-part volume entitled "Justice". I do hope that you enjoy it, for it took me about three days to complete the following contents. Thank you for continuing to view my story for this long, and I do hope that you have a good day/or night/or whatever. lol. Anyway, later :)]**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>BLOODNight**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Opening Theme – "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 7 – <strong>**Shine On You Crazy Diamond**_

* * *

><p><em>Sister Mary Victoria is in mourning.<em>

It's been almost a week since Lord Klaus Erwin Geschonneck, the man that she looked to as "a father figure", was assassinated by _Methuselah X-0769: Brother Randal K. Orton_. She tried calling her boyfriend to discuss the issue, but she hasn't received an answer back from him… She excuses the lack of communication as her lover probably being preoccupied with a covert operation.

_Sister Mary Victoria meditates on good memories, gazing into an old photo album containing pictures of the slain German powerhouse… As she examines the cheerful celebration of her 200__th__ birthday, a weekend getaway to Moscow spent solely with her German father figure, a deadly mixture of anger and sadness __**hardens**__ her heart._

_("Papa Klaus…") a tear of blood trails from her left eye, tainting the colored filming of the photo album. The beautiful vampiress closes the book of memories, attempting to keep her emotions bottled up. If she answers her phone in tears, it'll look __**very**__ unprofessional in the eyes of the Church… Vampires aren't biogenetically capable of shedding __**real**__ tears, and __**bleeding**__ all over her desk will make her seem 'disorderly and overemotional' to her superiors. ("…Why? Brother Randal, why – __**why**__ did you have to take his life…? Papa Klaus was such a kind man to me…when my parents were killed by a group of __**hoodlum radicals**__. Papa Klaus and Count Valdo looked after me, raising me from a pup to a full-fledged vampiress. I have so many personal reasons to support Count Valdo's cause – some of which cold-hearted __**Methuselah bastards**__ like Orton would __**never**__ understand! I owe my life and well-being to the Church… But the only thing I found here…is __**heartbreak**__.")_

Her office phone rings, waking her out of silent bereavement.

Sister Mary Victoria takes the call, speaking with a professional voice.

"Gideon Embassy, Rutherford HQ – this is Sister Mary Victoria speaking."

_"Good afternoon, Victoria…this is White Album", the gentle voice of the Church's top informant sets the beautiful nun into a state of relief._

"Father Christian, it's good to hear from you."

"_How are you, dear?"_

"I'm fine, more or less", she fibs, hiding her sorrow with a warm laugh.

_"It's all right, dear. I'm not as 'anal' as King Henry, and I'm not strict like the Pope. I believe it's __**more**__ than fair for a nightwalker to shed tears in a time of bereavement. We were human at some point in our life, before we became children of the night."_

"You're a very kind man, Father Christian."

_"Well, I'm not the most innocent nightwalker. I try to be a good person, but then there's the little __**quirks**__ that categorizes me with __**other**__ snappy bloodsuckers… Mummy ate jalapeños before she gave birth to me, so I'm __**naturally**__ 'a hotheaded bastard'." _

_The debonair charms of the ageless clergyman tickles the beautiful daughter of the Church._

_Father Christian doesn't laugh with her, signaling that something's troubling him… His heavy exhale only adds to the beautiful nun's suspicions._

"Father Christian, what's wrong? Are you all right?"

_"Well, I'm a little saddened by the news I've just heard", the informant's voice has become softer and a bit more sentimental. Sister Mary Victoria remains silent, listening to his every disturbing word. "…Little Thrill and D. Remedy were defeated by the fledgling."_

"Yes, I'm well aware of that. I heard that King Henry's _very_ _upset_ about it."

_"True, but that's not __**all**__ that has me in a mode of sorrow."_

"What else is there, Father?"

_"As you may already know, Geschonneck was killed in his office by a Methuselah, cutting our food supply in half... And, just a few hours after that…someone __**else**__ died at the award ceremony to decide who'll be the next Executive of Creative Development & Operations."_

"…I haven't heard about that, Father."

_"Well, there's good reason for such secrecy."_

"What's the reason, Father?"

_Father Christian looks into his locker room mirror, his face being shielded by the glare of his room's lighting. The informant checks his profile, as Sister Mary Victoria becomes anxious…_

_"Father Christian?"_

_"…My dear, I'm very sorry to be the one to say this to you, but…" the informant chokes on his guilt._

_"…Yes?" Mary Victoria's eyes fill up with bloody tears, expecting what's about to be said._

_"…Your lover, Terrence Trent D'Arby, was killed during an assassination attempt. He was to take the fledgling Crusnik's life, killing all those who stood in the way of the Church's ambitions. His existence was a very weak one but, despite my suggestions, the Pope felt it best to send him out… That senile old fool's causing __**too **__**many**__ of our men to die in the line of duty, and the King's __**furious**__ because of it."_

_Sister Mary Victoria's bottled emotions __**explode**__ in a burst of anger._

_**"****...It was him, wasn't it?"**_

_"We don't know __**who**__ did it. It all happened so fast, and there were several Infinity operatives in the Meeting Room at the time. I was in the midst of the group of traitors, much to their ignorance and lack of perception… I saw everything…but __**not**__ the one responsible for Brother D'Arby's death."_

_"It's all right, Father… I think I already know the identity of our __**faceless **__**murderer**__."_

_"Now don't go assuming things, dear", the wise old nightwalker extends a warning out of the kindness of his heart. Sister Mary Victoria listens with a deaf ear. "If you get yourself mixed up in this, you'll become a threat to __**all**__ Infinity radicals. Right now, you're ranked as a 'Class D' threat, which means that you're of no concern to them. Don't go all willy-nilly and cause yourself to be bumped up a few ranks, child. Losing you would set the Pope, the King __**and**__ the Count in a loss of morality. They'll surely become __**uncontrollably **__**wild**__ and would make __**everyone**__ – vampire, half-breed, eater, slave, and human – __**suffer**__ in the process. That's a massacre that we're trying to __**avoid**__, so don't–"_

_**"****Shut up!"**__ the angered nun snappishly ends her call, slamming her receiver onto its base._

_Sister Mary Victoria has lost __**all**__ patience with the operatives of Infinity HQ… especially __**one**__ in particular._

_"**You…**__ you did it, didn't you?" her polished nails scratch the glazed surface of her office desk, leaving behind visual evidence of her uncontrollable anger. Her heart is blinded to the truth, and she's still unclear as to who really killed her lover; however, her heart is focused on one man…__**and one man alone**__. "__**Orton…**__ How many more? __**How many more of my loved ones do you wish to take from me?**__ …I'll end it all – I'll put an end your __**heartless**__ killing spree…__**by **__**destroying you **__**and the rest of your precious little Highwaymen!**__"_

_The beautiful nun leaves her corner office, bumping into one of her workers on her way to the lobby exit._

_The young sister looks to her superior in a mode of concern._

_"Sister Mary Victoria…", the young Gideonite's voice halts the beautiful nun in her tracks. "…are you all right? You seem troubled by something."_

_"…When precious ones in your life all __**killed**__ by a heartless man…you'll understand how I feel, Sister April."_

_Sister Mary Victoria departs from the Latina Gideonite, leaving her with little explanation._

_The beautiful nun's out for blood – the blood of Brother Randal and the rest of the high-ranked Methuselahs that form the four-man cybernetic elite dispatch force known as __**"The Highwaymen"**__. In the past, the Highwaymen became infamous for assassinating __**several**__ valued clergymen and Church operatives. Also, their ruthless endeavors have ended __**numerous**__ trade businesses – losses that have placed the Church in a __**catastrophic**__ deficit. It was Sister Mary Victoria, and several other members of the Gideonite Embassy's Rutherford Branch, who tackled the administrative hardships associated with the Church's financial damages… But the furious maiden has finally __**had it**__ with staying put in her little corner office, allowing others to __**die**__ while she does nothing but file paperwork._

_The Afro-British beauty marches forth to take the lives of four warriors…oblivious to the dangers she's bound to face… One well-known fact about the Highwaymen: you should never, __**ever**__ face them in lone numbers._

* * *

><p><em>"Stuey, how much longer is it to Willington?"<em>

"About half an hour from here, love", my boy and I are cuddling in the backseat of Stephen's rental car. It's been a couple of hours since we ate something, and it's already 1:39 PM. My tummy's roaring, and I'm a little _snappy_ when I'm running on an empty stomach. "**_Oh boy…_** _My tank's beginning to rumble._"

_"Hopefully, there's a diner somewhere nearby", Steve's thoughts are on the same page as **everyone** in our party. The bad side of the situation – there isn't a single restaurant within **15 miles** of these God-forsaken woods… And, from what I've gathered, the ginger boy's no better than **I** am when he's hungry. "Trees, trees, tress and **more** fucking trees! Geez…I'm really starting to **hate** the sight of the color green."_

"Isn't your _existence_ **_green_**, ginger?"

_"Yeah, but at least it doesn't **nag** **me** when I'm hungry", oh Lord, what a senile old boob._

"Try to have a little more patience, Steve. It's not like a restaurant will come _running down the street with high-heels on – though the idea kind of tickles me_."

"I wonder what the restaurant would be saying", my boy giggles, recalling an ad everyone saw on the telly this morning before our departure. He looks to Stephen for the answer. "Stevie, what would the _restaurant_ say?"

_"Oh, that's easy…" the ginger boy lightens his voice and begins giving us a vivid image by reciting the ad's comical jingle. **"…Come get some chicken, come get some peas, come get some rice, and all of these; Hams, eggs and bacon, food for baby makin; Maybe a salad that'll make you say 'mm, I've got to have it'. So come on baby, hit the scene; And boogie on down to Mama Jean's!"**_

_My boy and I are **dying** in laughter. The jingle comes from a commercial advertisement for a restaurant called **"Mama Jean's Soul House"**. He sounds **just** like the funny Irish lady that paraded onscreen as a "white Sister Girl from the 70s". The **ridiculously** dressed ginger girl gracefully recited the jingle with retrograded song and dance… I love the old boy with all of my heart, but I **hate** Steve for bringing that up._

**_Help me, I can't stop laughing! I think I'm going to kick the bucket! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!_**

"I know, I know – I couldn't stop _rolling_ after I saw it, too", Stephen shoots us a proud, toothy grin through the rear-view mirror. We share a few moments of brotherly laughter. "**_Ha!_** _What were those idiots **thinking**, eh?_ It's 2011, _almost 2012_… And _that's_ another thing. Ain't it _freaking_ _hilarious_ – how _paranoid_ people are about this _'end of the world'_ crap?"

Damien and I calm down to engage in some intelligent conversation with the witty ginger boy.

"The world's not going to end _anytime_ _soon_, Steve. That's nothing but religious and astrological _mumbo-jumbo_ created by eccentric individuals – those who believe in glorified _theories_ like _'Evolution'_ and _'the Primordial Ooze'_. Yes, mankind came out of_ a bubbling pile of gooey elephant turds _– _oh wow, that's **very** believable_. **_Ooh_**, let's go write a _book_ about it and see how many we can sell _before **70%** of buyers come back for a bloody refund_."

_Damien suppresses his laughter to a calm chuckle, "That's…so true…oh dear! Ha-ha!"_

_"You'd have a **lot** to discuss with Father Andrew, fella. He's the type to **believe** in all of that junk. Sometimes, I **really** think that old goat's **gone off his nut** or something."_

"_Mmm_, yes, and he's _also_ the type to _mentally barge in_ on someone when they're _making love to their significant other_. Trust me when I say this – _the notion **barely** surprises me at all_. He's a nutcase _and_ an old pervert…but he's a _pretty damn good_ friend – that's for sure."

_I can't lie about that… Drew, although he inserted nanomachines into my boy, has given me a lot of pointers when it comes to fighting existence users. I wouldn't have made it as far as I have if it weren't for that senile old fart… He also treats my boy very well, and has made him into a very amazing existence user. Trust me, you'll **soon** find out what I mean…and why I was so **shocked** the other day._

_All of a sudden, I notice the sight of a strange town obscured by a thick fog in the distance._

_That's odd…_ I've never seen a place like _this_ before in my _entire life_.

_"What the hell…?" Steve's **always** the one to swear when he doesn't understand something._

"Where did _that_ town come from?" I look at Stephen's GPS, not seeing _any_ settlements within _30 minutes_ of our current location. _"Well, that's odd… Did you update your GPS today, Steve?"_

"I do it every single day, fella. An old man like me needs _help_ getting around a big country like this. But I'm in agreement with you – _we didn't pass through a smalltown en route to Willington **last** time_."

_"I think we should go check it out", suggests my boy, sparking my suspicions._

"I'm not so sure about that, Sweets."

_"My blood's boiling, Daddy…" Damien's voice has become **dark** and intense. Also, there's something glowing on his right wrist … **What's this?** Where did he get that **strange** metallic bracelet from? That's no **ordinary** trinket… I wonder what it could be. "Something's not right about that town, boys. I'm more concerned about **the innocents** than anything else. I mean, what if someone's **trapped** inside of another vampire's territory? We're practically **members** of Infinity now… So, I think we should go check it out, just to be on the safe side."_

Well, the little brown sugar's right about that… Infinity's motives include _protecting_ _others_, as well as liberating lost souls. If this is a trap, then that's just a chance we'll _have_ to take.

_Stephen sees Theodore motioning his left index finger forward – a wordless gesture to tell him, "pull into the town so we can check things out". TJ's not as experienced as Nattie, so he's acting solely on her suspicions._

_"TJ's conveying Nattie's concerns. She wants us to patrol the area… **Hmm…**"_

_Uh-oh! Steve's huffing like a pondering scholar… That's not good._

"What's troubling you, Steve?"

_"I've got a **bad** feeling about this, Stu", answers the ginger boy, as we drive through the town's foggy limits. Geez! The mist's so **thick** that the sun is **nowhere** in sight! This place's foggier than a freaking autumn swamp… And I don't **like** the vibes I'm getting from the people in the area… **They look like they're half dead**. "Be really careful in this town, lads. This ain't an **ordinary** fog…this **really** **is** someone's existence. I'm not sure if these folks are **hip** to it, but they're practically standing in the middle of a **warzone**."_

_You mean to tell me that they're **other** existences that can cover the expansion area of smalltown?_

_The notion's not impossible, but it's **rather** intimidating… Another existence user with as much expansion as me…? I'm not sure if I'm ready for this, especially after finding out the difference between "meters" and "blood meters" – the base unit used to measure an existence's expansion area, according to the academicians of the International University of Parapsychology._

_Natalie explained it to me earlier – normal meters and "blood meters" are different in proportion. A normal meter covers 100 cm, but a "blood meter" covers that **times 20**. A single blood meter is equivalent to 2000 cm in expansion area._

_My Paradise City covers an entire smalltown… But this one does too…?_

_My word! I never **knew** there'd be **another** existence out there capable of such **impressive** ground coverage… Looks like Drew's field training is about to be put to the test. Lord, I **can't** lie about this… I'm nervous._

_I know that I've faced **real** enemies before, but not one with **this** much mental strength._

* * *

><p><em>We're soon parked outside of the City Hall, where Raj rings the service bell at the Information booth.<em>

We wait a few minutes, and there's still no answer. Raj rings again, and a few seconds go by… It's obvious – _no one in this town wants to tell us a damn thing_.

It's not a very _"up-to-date"_ settlement, and it looks as if this place is one of those _old Spanish colonies_ I've seen on a 2-part documentary on the History Channel. I saw it on the telly last night. _Get this_:

_In the early 1700s, a few Spanish immigrants started a couple of colonies several **miles** outside of Spain. The Spanish government exiled them because they were feared to be **heretics**… Yes, these colonies were once **Gideonites** **loyalists**. The Church saw no further use for them, and left them to the merciless bloodsuckers of the night. Several hundred men and women were **killed** in the process._

_It's pretty damn amazing – these people look half dead, but this settlement's still active after all of these years. I **would** talk with one of the people here, but they don't seem to understand the English language. This one little boy keeps following me around, calling me **"hombre blanco"** like he's never seen an Anglo before… I can't be rude about it – maybe that **is** the case._

_"Hombre blanco, hombre blanco, hombre blanco…!"_

"He's so damn _cute and annoying_ that I want to _throw up_", Natalie whacks Stephen on the back of his head for being so rude. The senile old bloodsucker cringes in pain. "**_Ouch!_** What did ya do _that_ for …?"

_"…Because you're an ass-wipe **that should know better than that**. Now let's keep moving."_

"_Alright, alright already…_ Lighten up, will ya, lassie?"

_"Hee-hee! Otro hombre blanco, hee-hee!" the puppy points at Theodore, receiving a wink as a response. Our new little friend runs up to Damien, looking excited to see visitors in his little smalltown. The child holds onto my boy's hands, bouncing merrily in a circle with him. This is too cute – my boy's attracting the little ones now. Damien's always been good with kids. "Muy bonito, muy bonito, hombre muy bonito…!"_

_"Aww, he's so **cute**…" Damien pets the little one's head, watching as the little puppy runs up to Natalie._

_"Bella dama, bella dama…yes?"_

"And you're a _cute_ little something too, dear", Natalie loves children as much as my boy does. She levels herself to the little one's height, and begins speaking softly to him. "What's _your_ name, cutie pie?"

_"Enrique, yes?"_

"_Aww_, that's a _cute_ name for such _a sweet little pinchy-face_…" the little one clings to Natalie's chest, allowing her to pick him up. He points to an edifice just a block from here. From the looks of it, it appears as if it's the Town Embassy. We're sure to get some answers from there. Natalie plays coy for our new friend. _"…What's that building over there, little guy?"_

_"Help for you, yes?"_

"Oh, but it's a _scary_ place… _Would you come along with us, please?_"

_"Yes, I come there with you now."_

_Don't you just want to take him home and **plump** him up with sweets? This little fellow's got to be the **cutest** puppy I've seen in a while. He's such a sweet little sugar face._

__But it's strange… **Why** am I sensing an existence from this child?__

* * *

><p>A lone stranger has his car parked about a mile from the town's limits.<p>

His face is veiled by a decorative mask, and he appears to be listening to a classic from _Julio Iglesias_. His mobile ringtone sounds from his storage compartment… The masked traveller retrieves his cell and takes the call.

"This is Luis", he speaks with a rough Mexican accent.

_"Well, if it isn't the Enigmatic Child of Thunder", the Infinity HQ's favorite foul-mouthed informant is on the line. The masked driver huffs in amusement. "Going to take care of some unfinished business, old timer?"_

"He's causing _mucho problemas_… I _no_ like it."

_"None of us do, Lu. He'll surely take them **all** **out** if they're **that** far into his existence."_

"You can _count_ on Luis… I no let him hurt mis compañeros."

_"Be careful, old fella", the masked agent smiles through his mask, hearing the informant's concern. "I know you're a war-tough, high-flying berserker in battle, but try not to **hurt** any of our men while you're at it. That existence of yours is a frigging **powerhouse**, Lu. Keep the voltage down a couple of hertz, will ya?"_

"Thunder is _one_ with Luis... I do best to protect mis compañeros, mi amigo."

_"I believe ya, Lu. Godspeed, hombre."_

__"Hasta luego, Andrés", the call is ended. The masked agent shifts his gears into driving mode, and takes off towards his destiny. In his heart, he knows that this battle's _long_ overdue. It's been _100 years _since he last encountered this particular clergyman, and today…he's _sure_ to do it – he'll either _arrest_ the troublemaker, or _defeat_ him in mortal combat. Either way, he'll _end_ this century-old vendetta once and for all. _("Mi hermano…I no let you go on like this, never once repenting for countless sins you commit. You either give up nicely…**or you fall to Thunder's mighty volts!**")___

* * *

><p>"Excuse me, miss", Stephen has stepped forward to speak with a young receptionist. She appears to be fully concentrated on filing her paperwork, and she's <em>intentionally<em> not acknowledging our presence. We're all standing by to witness how _rude_ the young lady's acting with her walk-ins. The impatient ginger's not one to tolerate _anyone's_ rude and discourteous behavior. _"Hey, lady! Ya gonna give us some service or do we have to ring up the manager?"_

_"Manager? Oh, yes…he no here right now…" the young lady appears to be knowledgeable of a little English. But, as she turns her head, we all notice something **disturbing** about her… She's suffering from a chronic skin disease called **leprosy**. She begins scratching at her skin, causing it to bleed just a bit. Natalie covers Enrique's eyes, and everyone cringes at the sight of how horribly infected she is. "…You come back soon, yes? No service now – lunchtime for Enya, yes?"_

"Oh, um…sorry about that, Ms. Enya", Stephen walks away from the Information desk, returning to us with a face that looks like it's about ready to _blow chunks_. He runs outside and foully regurgitates in the trashcan next to the door. We come to his aid, understanding how he feels – that was something _none_ of us were mentally prepared for. _"For the love of… That was…just so wrong. **How could those bastards let this place fall into such a disgusting rut?** It's too fucking…**cruel**…"_

_I don't think I've **ever** heard of a vampire vomiting, but now that I'm **looking** at it…I really don't blame the ginger boy for losing his breakfast._

"Those bloodsucking _cultists_ are the most unpleasant set of _bastards_ I ever did hear of. To reduce people to _this_ because they have a mind of their own… _unforgivable_."

"Enrique, where's your family, dear?" my boy pets the little townsman's head.

The little fellow's face becomes saddened.

_"They here no more – bad people come take, yes?"_

_What…? This child hasn't a family to go home to…? They took his folks away, **and left him out here to die…?** **That's just inhuman!**_

_…Uh-oh! Somebody's just become **piping** mad._

_"They've stranded this child **all by himself**…?" Brother Theodore, who's a youth minister for Infinity HQ, is **utterly **pissed off. His fists tighten, itching to seek the jaws of the clergymen responsible for this. "Babes, I think I'm going to take the lead on this one… I've been meaning to put my existence of earth to good use anyhow."_

"Do what you have to, sweetie. We're all here to back you up."

_"…Thanks, Babes. I'll now exercise my power as 'Head of Infinity's Youth Liberation Department'."_

Theodore's a man on a mission, now… I've _never_ seen him this furious.

TJ and I've wrestled a couple of times in dark matches, sometimes teaming up together. I've never, _not even in my wildest dreams_, known him to have _"that look"_ on his face… _The Canadian Adonis is sporting the dreaded stone eye_. _He's so angry that I can feel the pressure of his existence of earth lightly pushing against my body… Good Lord! **It's massive** – probably **just** as powerful as Stephen's Green Day_.

_Uh-oh… TJ's come to a halt. The youth minister kneels down, placing his right ear close to the ground._

_"What are you doing that for, Theo?"_

_"Stay quiet for a second, DC", my boy remains silent to respect the youth minister's wishes. He's actually listening to the tectonic frequencies around the area, reacting to a change in the earth's core… His eyes widen just a bit – that means he's heard something that's heavily out of place. "Someone's driving a car on the road… They're about a minute or so from our current location."_

"Well, _that's_ impressive", TJ stands up and dusts the dirt from his jeans. That was a pretty nifty little trick – his existence gives him the ability to hear sound waves within the earth. That'll come in handy in the near future… All of a sudden, the thick fog becomes lit with a car's headlights. Everyone turns around to see a silver-colored Mazda Protégé being parked in the center of the street. "…Looks like we've another visitor in our midst. I wonder what's brought him to _this_ muggy hellhole."

_The driver's door opens…and out steps a rather shocking sight._

"Wait a second… Sin Cara, is that _you_ over there?" the luchador enmascarado steps forward, dressed in a handsomely designed black business suit with matching tie and dress shoes.

He looks like one of _the Men in Black_. Well, he's looking _very_ debonair and handsome today, if I must say so myself. The mysterious high-flyer joins us, respectfully saluting Natalie with a formal right hand-to-chest bow. _Wait a minute, don't tell me he's…_

"You mean…_you_ work for Infinity, as well?"

_"I come here to help with arrest of mi hermano", the masked agent looks at Enrique, striking him with fear. The little one hides his head from the radical, and Natalie becomes protective. "I sorry, your excellency… But, I must take the little niño to headquarters."_

_"Are you accusing this poor, defenseless child of doing all of this, Father Luis?" the former queen appears to be appalled by the masked agent's actions._

_"I mean no harm… I only do job. I must take **Jorge** in now, your excellency."_

_"His name is 'Enrique', **not** Jorge… Where did you get this **silliness** from? Return to base, now!"_

_"You no understand…this is personal", the luchador enmascarado takes a few steps away from us, aiming his right fist at our party._

**_What the devil…? Is he going to attack us…?_**

_"What the hell are you about to do, fella?" Stephen's become antsy, and is ready to react at any given moment._

_"Jorge won't let **Thunder** hurt him… Forgive Luis for being…how you say…**'straightforward'?**"_

_Without warning, a thick bolt of lightning emerges from the agent's aimed fist, storming towards us with deadly speed and accuracy!_

_**"This bastard's lost his mind!"** Stephen speaks for all of us – we would've **never** expected **him**, of all people, to do something as **reckless** as this..._

_…But then, a thick cloud of fog forms a protective shield in front of our bodies. This wild phenomenon is a reaction to the young townsman's eyes glowing with a faint light. The thick bolt of lightning suddenly comes to a halt, as our party senses a high level of paranormal energy exciting within the little pup's blood… The little fellow's carried out of Natalie's arms by the ominous mist, being hovered upright by its airy embrace._

_He was right all along… Enrique's…**not** what he appears to be._

_"It pleasure to see you again, **hermanito**", the child speaks with the voice of a grown, raspy-voiced Hispanic male, leaving my party speechless. Father Luis cracks his knuckles, ready to do battle with his revealed sibling. "It is shame – we half-brothers by blood, yet we **always** fight to see who's 'el mejor guerrero'. I take your life today, but I change form…to show our amigos the **truth** about me."_

_A thick blanket of mist quickly surrounds the imposter, rapidly changing his physical form…_

_…He's revealed to be a man with a physique similar to that of Father Luis's. He stands the same, his confidence level is the same, and his aura is **almost** identical… He even appears to be a luchador enmascarado with an identical mask, but its color coding is different. Father Luis wears cyan and gold; the imposter's wearing black and red._

_"Am I looking at…a good **and** a bad Sin Cara?" my boy speaks for all of us – we had no idea that Luis had a brother, and we had no **idea** that that there were **2** **Sin Caras**. "It's like looking at an image of light and darkness… This is **really** starting to freak me out."_

Natalie suddenly remembers something about the 2 Sin Caras, according to Infinity's social network.

_"I remember them now – the legendary sibling rivals known by **one** renowned moniker: **"Los Dos Sin Caras"**. Father Luis is the **good** Sin Cara – **Místico the Enigmatic**: one of our strongest field agents and a master of electrokinesis… But, the **other** Sin Cara is his evil older half-brother, **Hunico the Obscure** – a merciless sociopath with a lust for causing mischief and ruining the lives of innocents. They may be related by blood, but these two masked warriors are **nothing** alike."_

_"Místico…**and Hunico?**" I don't know if I should be fascinated or freaked out, but this's probably the most **breathtaking** event that's transpired in the past 12 hours. "Looks like we're learning something new every day… I had no idea that Luis had a brother, let alone an **evil** one."_

_"Your excellency, amigos, I ask that you leave here now", the chivalrous Místico humbly requests, as the polar opposites' existences emerge on their skin as light exhausts of their ghostly elements. "Mi hermano hurt you if you stay here, so go **far** from here…now."_

_"No…I'm staying", TJ uses his natural physical strength to leap into the air, flying high over Hunico's grounded body. The righteous youth minister is spiritually carred directly next to our masked comrade by a gentle blanket of air. TJ turns on his heel, standing strongly at Místico's left. Our masked comrade looks to the youth minister with stubborn body language. "Don't huff at me, Lu… This is **also** personal for me."_

_"Why you no leave, Teodoro?"_

_"Because, Lu…**I despise cowards who think it's funny to make a mockery of innocent children!**" Hunico becomes antsy, feeling the ground quaking with the minister's righteous anger. Everyone looks to TJ, beholding the chivalrous burn of his furious eyes. The enraged Adonis holds his right hand forward in a corresponding side stance. His voice echoes righteously. **"Shine on! Crazy Diamond!"**_

_A watery silver territory with an area of 400 bm expands from TJ's body… The ground stops shaking, and we're now able to move freely._

_Wait a second… How did these **fissures** get scattered all over the ground…?_

_"My existence is activated…and my diamond holes are scattered across the terrain. Hunico, Sin Cara, Jorge, or **whatever** your name is… When we get done with you, **you're going to need corrective surgery on your entire body, you sick bastard!**"_

_Jesus! The bloke's put **several large cracks** in the earth's surface without even moving a single muscle…?_

_TJ's Crazy Diamond must be in the **top-tier** of Infinity HQ… His expansion area's not the most impressive that I've seen, but the power bottled inside of it…is **monstrous**!_

_"Everyone, get as far out of the city limits as you possibly can… Lu and I have to 'take out the trash'."_

"Okay, sweetie…", the former queen rallies us with her right hand, and we follow her away from the scene. About a minute away from the confrontation, Natalie begins explaining the reasons behind TJ's personal request. "They're going to be fighting at _full power_, guys. If we stayed within that territory without possessing the blood of 'a berserker class fighter', we would've been _mentally_ _injured_. TJ and Luis are old field partners, so we don't have to worry about them. I'm sure they'll be _just_ fine."

_"That'd explain why Luis was so lenient with him."_

"Yes, but that's not all, Stu."

_"What else is there, Nattie?" my boy's just as curious as I am._

"If TJ and Luis activate their existences at the same time, they'll be able to cover _1000 bm of expansion area._ That's equivalent to Hunico in both power _and_ ground coverage. That's why we can't stay there – the impact will hit the entire town, and we'd be caught _right in the middle of it_."

_So that would mean that Father Luis's expansion area is "600 bm"… No wonder why they were once a team of field agents. Together…they're a force to be **reckoned** with._

"I see that you are both ready to lose", the heartless rudo's mask tightens against his venomous smile.

_"You talk too much, Hunico… Your little bro and I want to see some **action** for a change."_

"Oh, so you want action? La acción del hardcore, _eh_?"

_Father Luis and TJ are silent with pending aggression… The wordless front of the energized berserkers sets the impatient rudo into a blind rage._

_**"…Fine! I take both your lives – hermano idiota y estúpido gringo!"** the enraged luchador enmascarado holds his hands at his side, allowing the mist around him to collect in his opened palms. The old field partners become alert, awaiting the sniggling rudo's first attack. "**Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!** I now show you the **power** of Hunico's **existence of death!** **…Confuse the eyes! Obscure Cloud!**"_

_The rudo's existence was already activated, but his territory wasn't… He allows his 1000 bm territory to expand from his body, and combine with the old field partners' deadly supernatural force. Luckily, our cars are already outside of the smalltown's city limits… It's a good thing because…the combined expansion area's just been **doubled to 2000 bm –** the equivalent of **2** of my existences… _That's one **monster** of a territory__…and I don't think we'd last_**_ a millisecond _**_inside of that thing__.__

____I'm surely glad we left the area. We would've done nothing but get in the way of a heated vendetta... And, in times like this, it's **best** not to be a tenacious fool.____

* * *

><p><em>We're already a mile or two away from the town's limits.<em>

_But then, the oddest thing happens – the **last** thing one would expect._

_"Huh? What are those people doing in the middle of the road…?" Stephen's shock catches our attention, and we look forward to see the image of **every single townsperson standing in the way of our vehicles**. Stephen gives Natalie a left-handed back wave signal, physically asking her to 'hit the brakes'… Our vehicles skid to a halt, and we step out to notice how **dead** the peoples' physical appearance is in broad daylight. Natalie, Damien, Stephen, Raj and I regroup before the ginger's rental car. "I should've known… These aren't **normal** people – **they're frigging zombies under Hunico's control**."_

_How are we going to defeat this many attackers all at once?_

_Is such a thing even **possible** in our inferior numbers?_

_"Stand back, everyone", my boy steps forward, the metallic bracelet on his right wrist glowing with a gentle crimson light… Our Infinity radical cohorts are beaming proudly. They seem to know something that I don't, and it's starting to bother me. "…Stuey, listen to me for a second."_

_My boy's words grasp my attention._

_"…If you think what you saw on that recording was 'a kicker', then feast your eyes on the 'real thing', up-close and personal", his metallic bracelet shines vibrantly, causing a crimson airstream to seep from his buxom frame… My goodness, what's my fiancé **doing**…? _**_"Embrace the afterlife! Crossroads!"_**

_The crimson airstream spreads from his body as a watery territory… The expansion of this existence stretches 800 bm of area! But that's not all…something **else** is happening to my boy._

_His golden brown skin loses all of its pigment, becoming completely white._

_His hair loses all of its color and becomes a spiky silver mane._

_His ears become pointed like a bat, his teeth become small fangs, and his eyes glow with a faint crimson light. The last thing that happens to him – his existence dematerializes the threading of his shirt, allowing **real** batwings to spread from his upper back! **…Oh my god! Is that…really** **my boy?**_

**_"Nanomachines activated!"_**_ announces my boy with a ghastly dual-toned voice. An enchanting crimson light surfaces onto his hands, as he poises them like opened claws in an X-formation in front of his face. My transformed fiancé becomes excited with the thrill of battle. **"…Mission! Battle Dance 00: Ravenous Child – 10%!"**_

**_Ravenous Child…10%? _**_If he's starting **this** low, then it's probably for good reason._

_I don't know what's happening now, but what's to come next…is **sure** to blow my mind. My boy's transformed into **a full-fledged Crusnik**, and it's a **terrifying**…yet **beautiful** sight to see… The very image of my winged lover leaves me **all the more** **curious** about the unknown fortes of his extraordinary existence._

**_Just how powerful is the existence called "Crossroads"?_**_ Will Damien be able to back up his flashy transformation, or will **we** have to step in to give him a hand? I **wish** he'd allow us to help him, but we can't… This is **Damien's** time to shine…. This is **his** chance to prove to us just how **amazing** Father Andrew's technology really is._

_The question remains… **"Is he truly ready?"**_

_And what of Father Luis and Brother Theodore?_

_Will they be able to stand up against Hunico's **frightening** existence of death, **Obscure Cloud**? Will their shared field experience lead them to victory, or will they **fall** to the crazed might of the sociopathic rudo?_

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme <strong><em>– "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>**_**

* * *

><p><strong><em><strong><em>(Up Next: Chapter 8 <strong><em>– Diamonds Are Forever)<em>**_**_**


	9. Chapter 8: Diamonds Are Forever

**_BLOOD/Night_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Opening Theme - "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<em>**

* * *

><p><em>In the past few days, more extraordinary events have transpired.<em>

_In the brink of my battle with Father John, Natalie and Theodore runs into a little trouble at the Rosenkreuz Hotel. A group of provocative clergywomen fell to Natalie's existence of fire, __**Wild Orchid**__, which fried them to a cinder in its inescapable __**Fever Bind**__. Following the easy kill, the founder and her apprentice race towards the rendezvous point, under the guidance of Natalie's __**Scan**__ ability._

_Stephen, who is revealed to be the fabled __**Father Paddington**__, heroically comes to my aid. He initiates a decisive front to help put an end to Father John's relentless assault. __**Green Day**__, Stephen's well-polished existence, completely absorbs the clergyman's most powerful attack – __**100% Optic Hurricane**__ – in less than 20 seconds. _In reaction to the enemy's pivotal strategic defenses, the_ clergyman mentally concedes and humbly repents for his blinded sins… Father John quickly becomes an ally, and his relationship with my boy is successfully revived._

_In an itch for adventure, __**White Noise**__ develops a spontaneous urge to assist us in battle. One of his cybernetic masterpieces – __**Methuselah X-0769: Randal K. Orton**__ – extends his concerns. Instead of getting a clear enough answer, Brother Randal is sent off on an assassination mission to collect the head of one __**Lord Klaus Erwin Geschonneck**__ of Germany. The cyborg assassin takes his leave, while White Noise encounters a very persistent German femme assassin. Comically enough, he pricelessly finishes her off with his existence of sound, __**Echoes**__, and adds his personal touch of derisive suaveness as a final gesture._

_Brother Randal is successful with the assassination of Lord Geschonneck, burying the perverted German's arrogant trash talk in an icy grave of blood. He leaves Ferryman Coastal HQ, being given orders to join his fellow __**Highwaymen**__ in the protection of my boy. He immediately switches course, heading straight towards Osborne City – the commercial and economic leader of all British cities._

_It is here, in Osborne City, that our next enemy leaves their mark… __**Little Thrill and D. Remedy**__, __**the Adored Twins**__, massacre 58 innocents using their deadly existence of the wind, __**Jagged Edge**__. Natalie's favorite fashion designer, __**Lady Gloria Estefan**__, is killed in the genocidal attack… The founder's anger is fueled, but she's quickly calmed by her apprentice lover, Brother Theodore._

_The awards ceremony to decide the new Executive of Creative Development & Operations begins and ends with a bang… The rest of the Highwaymen – __**Methuselah X-1096: Brother Heath Miller**__, __**Methuselah X-2732: Brother Paul Lloyd, Jr.**__, and __**Methuselah X-0998: Sister Sarona Reiher**__ – decorate the scene with a hilarious touch of comic relief. Sarona wasn't the one causing the __**biggest**__ part of the scene, but at least her actions didn't __**rouse**__ the frustrations of our C.O.O., __**Paul Lévesque**__… The ceremony ended in my boy's victory, and was ruined by a failed assassination attempt._

_Father Yuvraj quickly activates Clockwork Orange. With little trouble, the Punjabi-Canadian nightwalker makes quick work of the murderous bloodsucker, impaling the assassin's skull with 6 dinner knives. The act rouses fear in all attending personnel, _and all attendants are immediately evacuated from the chaotic death scene_. _Despite the intensity of his cold-blooded endeavor, much respect is due to the heroic Infinity agent on our part.__

__Our circle regroups just a few minutes away from the Meeting Room. We are joined by White Noise and his entourage of Methuselahs, discovering a very **shocking** revelation about the faceless informant._ The foul-mouthed Scotsman is revealed to be an old tag-team partner and current coworker of mine, __**Andrew Galloway**__; __**a.k.a. Drew McIntyre**__ – a fierce competitor on our Raw roster. We are informed of the trouble to come, which calls for Damien to be escorted off the premises. Father John joins the departing group, led by Father Andrew, to be initiated into Infinity HQ's long list of heroes. His presence and employment with the alliance is highly favored by the coalition's founder – our favorite vampiress, Natalie… Not a second later, I __**instantly**__ fall into a consuming depression._

_Later on, Father Yuvraj and I have a brief phone conversation, and we become closer friends in the process… He assures me that he's felt the same heartbreaking pain in the past, and knows what it's like to part from someone that he truly loves. Our brotherly moment is put to an end, with promises of hanging out before meeting with Natalie and Theodore in the afternoon…. And then, things turn to the worst-case scenario._

_Little Thrill and D. Remedy reveal their true identities to me: __**Jonathan and Joshua Fatu**__**– a.k.a.**__**Jimi and Jey Uso**__. Their vicious challenge rouses my blood, initiating my first **real** battle. Believe me when I say this – I was downright **furious** with them, especially because of our bad blood with each other… They've made this decisive confrontation **personal**, and I'm __**more**__ than honored to take them down._

_While Damien gets used to his temporary home at Infinity HQ's Hideaway House, Father Andrew runs into an old friend of his – my boy's infamous uncle, __**Lord Alexander Broaden Crosse**__. Though the informant's cybernetic expertise is without equal, Lord Alexander has his doubts about Drew's actions. The suave radical promises positive results, and allows the infamous Crusnik to be on his way._

_Meanwhile, I somehow manage to __**defeat**__ the Adored Twins using a newly discovered healing ability. Paradise City cremates the twins' bodies into corrupted corpses, dragging their impure souls to an alternate dimension where they're to be purified. My new attack is cleverly called __**"Cruel Angelica"**__ – a ghostly manifestation of Mother Mary as a shining maiden of sunlight. Natalie, Theodore, Stephen and Yuvraj join me in the parking lot, amazed by my new power. It's discovered that my existence has not 1, but __**2**__ territories. After a little light conversation, I dismiss myself from the party._

_My boy meets a new friend – an English apprentice of Senegalese decent named __**Youssou N'Dour**__. They become quick friends, and Damien begins treating the shy fellow like a big brother. Their relationship is vital, for N'Dour has a crush on my boy… That may be trouble for me, but it's sure to work in my boy's favor one of these days… N'Dour's the type of person to __**put his life on the line**__ for the one he loves._

_Elsewhere, the King receives the disturbing news about the Adored Twins' demise from the legendary __**White Album – **__**the Chanter of Elegies**__. The King furiously vents his anger, and allows the informant to tend to other affairs after a harsh scolding… And then we're introduced to a grim and **frightening** turn of events: __**my Great-Grandfather Frederic's been turned into the King's slave**__. Lord Frederic's __**no **__**longer**__ the chivalrous nightwalker that he once was… He's now a mindless servant called __**"a Dietrich"**__._

_Later that day, Damien calls me on his mobile, sharing the joyous word of his progressions en route to the Astoria. I propose to my boy, leaving him tearfully speechless… When my boy arrives, we celebrate our betrothing with a few tender moments of lovemaking … And then, as if it weren't expected, the Church makes its next move. My next opponent: a faceless predator who eccentrically calls himself **"the One Obscured by Clouds"**_.

_**Sister Mary Victoria**__ mourns the loss of Geschonneck, but the situation soon becomes extremely grim… White Album calls her, giving her the disturbing news about her boyfriend's death at the awards ceremony. _My boy's opponent, **Terrence Trent D'Arby** – Mary Victoria's lover, is the man that he speaks of…___ The beautiful nun rudely ends the conversation, heading for the man she feels led to hunt down – __**Brother Randal of the Highwaymen**__._

_She promises to __**personally**__ send the Highwaymen to their deaths, making things easier for her and the rest of the Church._

_En route to Willington, my party runs into an abandoned Spanish colony covered by an ominous mist. We discover the city to be in the __**lowest**__ of ruts, and some residents have even been struck with a chronic skin disease. In the midst of this horrible sight, we meet a young townsman named __**Enrique**__, who shows us where to find help. We are soon joined by __**Sin Cara**__, who's revealed to be a high-ranked field agent of Infinity HQ._

_He forces our cooperation, opening our eyes to the truth – Enrique's really __**a cold-blooded criminal**__ working for the Church… The shocking thing about it is: __**Enrique's another Sin Cara**__._

_We are personally introduced to the legendary sibling rivals known as __**"Los Dos Sin Caras"**__ – __**Místico the Enigmatic**__ and his evil elder half-brother __**Hunico the Obscure**__. Theodore joins the battle, having developed a __**furious**__ vendetta against Hunico due to his executive position in __**Infinity's Youth Liberation Department**__. Natalie rallies the rest of us for evacuation, leaving the three berserkers to their personal affairs._

_However, things become worse once again… Every single townsperson we've encountered now stands in the middle of the road. Damien steps forward, activating his Crusnik blood. My eyes are opened to the image of Damien's transformed state – a **ghastly**, yet beautiful humanoid Albino Bat. He promises us a great show, initiating his assault with a ferocious dual-toned voice._

_**_"Nanomachines activated! Mission! Battle Dance 00: Ravenous Child – 10%!"_**_

_A battle to arrest or defeat a wanted criminal… A test of Father Andrew's cybernetic expertise._

_What will become of these heated confrontations? Will the old field partners be successful in their battle against the sociopathic rudo? Will my boy's training be a success…or all for naught?_

_The epic events to come…will open the gates to perdition…_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 8 – <strong>**Diamonds Are Forever**_

* * *

><p><strong><em>Eternum University<em>**_ – a private college sponsored by the good men and women of Infinity HQ._

_In this vast community of future scholars, all races – human, vampire, half-breed – gather to study the many fields provided by the talented educators of the renowned Infinity radical group. Several operatives visit Eternum from time to time, sharing stories and valuable lessons with the youthful mass of studious learners. Currently, all engineers majoring in the fields of Cybernetics and/or Biogenetics have gathered at **Pressley Hall** – the university's stadium-sized auditorium._

_Father Andrew's been scheduled to speak to the mass of engineers, and the Highwaymen accompanies him for this highly-anticipated presentation. Everyone, cybernetic and biogenetic engineer alike, are **stoked** to hear the wise words of the world's **most** **requested** technological genius – the acclaimed inventor of the highly-tempered crystalline ore **"Crimson Matter"**… Crimson Matter, a glassy mineral created from red blood cells containing chiropteran mutagen, is the **heaviest** and **most** **valuable** substance on the entire planet. Only a small number of humans are born with chiropteran mutagen, which is known to naturally course through the veins of a vampire... But those who **aren't** born with it can **only** receive the mutagen after their death… Such is the existence of the Highwaymen._

_Father Andrew's genius (and good looks) has attracted the attention (and hearts) of **many** loyal followers… Most of them flooding with estrogen and capable of conceiving a child. In other words, there're **only** **female** **engineers** in the large congregation of students… Well, I guess that's saying **quite a lot** about today's youth._

_"Oh, Suzie Q...my favorite bestie in the **whole** wide world! Guess what I heard?"_

"What is it, Donna?" huffs an annoyed schoolgirl.

_"Your **sexy brother's** going to be here."_

"Donna, he's my _half-brother_ – we don't have the same mother… _Thank God._ If I _was_ unlucky enough to come from the same hole as him, I'd _shoot_ myself."

_"Yeah, but he's **still** your big brother. You've **gotta** love him… He's so…**ah**…dreamy…"_

The gothic beauty looks up to the sky, "…_Take me, please_."

_"Oh, you're such a killjoy!" the cute young lady with coke-bottled specs, **Donna Summers**, loses her temper. "You just don't understand the **'awesomeness'** of our precious Highwaymen...**ah**...and their hunky inventor! **Oh**...Father Andrew, marry me! Marry me, **please**...?**"**_

The gothic beauty rubs her temples in annoyance.

"_Geez!_ Honestly, how _loud_ can you get, Donna?" grunts the gothic beauty, sitting amidst the mass of dreaming female engineers. Donna folds her arms and puffs her cheeks with hot air. The gothic beauty, **_Susana Quintero_**, rakes her silky mass of jet black hair out of her face. "It's _bad enough_ that we look just alike in so many _annoying_ ways… I _hate_ being related to such _a scene queen_."

_"Suzie Q, you **really** have to learn to be nice to him. He **is** the reason why you're here in the first place."_

"_Yes_, I asked to be in a university full of _fake_ boobs, _fake_ butts, _fake_ personalities and _fake_ people. I'm _exploding_ with happiness… _Tell me – do I sound convincing?_"

_"Oh geez, you're such a grouch", the girls share a little laughter._

__Brother Randal looks down at his little sister from his hawk's eye view on the balcony above. His cybernetic vision thoroughly scans the parameters of the stadium, picking up that the gathered populace of Pressley Hall is **solely** comprised of bouncy fangirls… He concludes that these girls are just as **clingy** as his estrogen-dominated mass of WWE loyalists.__

_Standing faithfully at his side are his fellow Highwaymen, dressed in their all-purpose field suits. Every year, White Noise and the Highwaymen visit Eternum for a certain purpose. This year's visit is for a demonstration, which is the Methuselahs' most favored occasion. Brother Paul checks his katana's tempered steel, gazing at his handsome reflection._

_"Hmm…" he appears to be amused by something._

"What is it, PJ?"

_"Nothing, Ronnie…just wondering why **most** of the engineers are females."_

"Is that a _bad_ thing?"

_"Besides the 'mannish-looking chicks'…do you see **any** testosterone down there?" now that he mentions it, Sister Sarona and Brother Heath realizes that there isn't a single **speck** of testosterone in the crowd. His fellow operatives acknowledge his professional concerns. "Those girls are here because they think we're cute, **not** because they want to be radicals. They wouldn't last two seconds in our ranks – **their** only concerned with landing one of us in bed. **Typical**, to say the least."_

"Like Ronnie said, _'is that a bad thing'_?" reiterates the eyeing Brother Heath, gazing at all of the beautiful young ladies in the audience. Brother Paul silently chokes on his aversion, beholding the coquettish antics of the West Virginian native. _"Mm-mm-**mm**! Look at all of that hotness down there… Makes these old circuits want to **overheat**, if you know what I mean!"_

_"Yeah, I bet they'd just **love** to 'tickle your little piece of scrap metal'!" Brother Heath shoots the cool-headed swordsman a fierce eye of offense. The cultured swordsman ignores Heath's anger and brings up a more important subject. "Guys…am I the **only** one sensing 'unauthorized personnel' in the university's parameters?"_

_The other Methuselahs' locating systems are triggered, and they instantly sense an unauthorized life form approaching Pressley Hall… The life form is precisely 5 minutes away from the building._

"Everyone, keep a _sharp_ eye on things", commands Brother Randal, receiving a nod from his comrades.

_"Gotta love this view, eh?" their creator's handsome voice sounds from their rear. The Methuselahs turn to look into the loving eyes of the sophisticated inventor. The Methuselahs show respect to their inventor, saluting his presence with militaristic stance. "Let's be on our way, kiddos. I know you've probably sensed someone coming, but so have I… I can't promise ya anything, so **whatever** happens…let's try to make the best out of the situation."_

_"Yes, Father Andrew", acknowledges the cyborgs._

_"Alright, let's move."_

__"Yes, Father Andrew", the Methuselahs silently tail after their departing leader, mentally prepared to react to any suspicious actions.__

* * *

><p><em>The undead blockade has yet to move from their vastly gathered position.<em>

_Damien stands as a 1-man army before dozens of wrongfully resurrected Spanish pioneers… He appears to be hesitating, which isn't like him. My Sweets usually reacts instantly towards **every** situation, regardless of the outcome. It's his nature – Damien's a very spontaneous person… So, why – **why** isn't my boy moving a single muscle at a time where instant reaction is a **vital**?_

"Before I attack the lot of you…" begins my boy with a dual-toned voice, addressing the undead Spanish colonists. "…I'm going to give you _one_ _last_ _chance_. Remove yourselves from the area, _or I will exercise my authority to use lethal force_."

_My boy receives silence as an answer._

"I understand…why you _don't_ want to move…" my boy stands straight, balling his fists with righteous heart. The rest of us recall how much of an _understanding person_ Damien is. Regardless of how my boy appears, his heart of gold remains _untouched_ by his grisly transformation. His eyes lose their frightening glow, and my boy begins to sympathize with the undead souls._ "…The Church did this to you. They took you away from your homes, your lives, the people that you knew and loved… All of you, listen to me… You owe the Church **nothing** – servitude, obedience, gifts, advice, labor, respect, **nothing** at all. I understand. To live once again was probably the **one** thing that you wanted most of all, and we have **no right** to take that away from you… But it's wrong – terribly, and **utterly wrong**… You should be **resting**, enjoying the treasures of the afterlife…where you belong… Please, I'm **begging** you…**move**."_

_"Destruirnos…" weakly utters one of the colonists, surprising the lot of us._

_"Destroy…us?" my boy doesn't know how to react to such a request. _

"Did that man just say–?"

_"Yeah, Stu…these people **want** to be sent back", Stephen's words grasp my attention, as he begins explaining the origins of Hunico's power. "…Father Jorge is a necromancer that uses **'the Death Arts'** to do his dirty work. Therefore, his existence can only be activated on top of **'ashy ground'**."_

"Ashy…_ground? You mean–?_"

_"Dead bodies, fella… This town's really one of those Spanish colonies we saw on the tube last night. It's funny saying this, but this little place was once called 'Copa Cabana'."_

_"Copa Cabana? Like the song?"_

_"Where do you think the title came from?" Steve looks at me with angry eyes. The ginger boy's itching for a fight, and so are Natalie and Yuvraj. "Stu, these people once lived in a **beautiful** colony where tourists would come **from miles around** to taste the delicious food, stay in lavish resorts, see the sights, and make some **very** unforgettable memories… This city hit rock bottom 45 years ago, but it was **officially** torn down in 1978. These unfortunate souls were the residents that died of starvation, sickness **and** suicide… That's how **cruel** the Church is, Stu. They left these people to die because they wouldn't conform. **300 years of struggle** led to this – the demise of a small civilization. Hunico caught eye of us on our way to Willington and set up this blockade of death… But I can't say that I regret coming here. At least we've got the power to help put an end to this sick charade."_

_"**Unforgivable**…" my boy's anger turns our vision away from each other. Our attention is focused on the sight of a single townsman stumbling forward to my boy. Damien's head is lowered, and his eyes are covered with a furious darkness. "…I can't believe it. They **allowed** these people to die such a horrible death. They were only a small fraction of the old Spanish settlers, but they were **still** people… **I can't look past this**…"_

_"Destruirnos…" the settlers are stumbling forth towards my boy, one by one, wanting him to take their lives. "..Destruirnos, dios murciélago!"_

_"I'm **not** a bat god, so don't call me that…" my boy allows the youthful looking townsman to grasp onto his body. Without warning, Damien drives his right arm through the chest of the undead colonist, causing the rest of the following mass to come to a halt. A tear falls from Damien's right eye, as the colonist's body hits the ground. "…I'm not a savior, I'm not a god, I'm not even a hero. **Heroes** protect thousands of lives for their own personal reasons… I'm just a radical – a person who's fighting against the corrupted Church to **end** the dreaded, **genocidal** norms of society. And that's why…"_

_A mass of shining crimson mineral emerges from my boy's right hand, forming into a frightening crystalline scythe. The rest of us are **amazed** by the uncanny flash of Father Andrew's biogenetic technology._

_"…And that's why…" my boy lifts his head, showing the monstrous glow in his eyes. **"…That's why I'll unleash my righteous fury on all predators! For the sake of the fallen, I will send your souls back to heaven!"**_

_Damien rears his sickle to his right, savagely lunging forward into flight!_

_My boy begins wildly reaping the undead souls of the Spanish colonists… Body after shredding body, my boy's crystalline blade claims them all. His tears fall, his heart breaks… The pain of the Spanish settlers – those who struggled to survive for **hundreds** of years – hits his heart at every angle._

**_"Forgive me!"_**_ my boy rears his sickle above his head, swing it down by its long staff!_

_The crimson matter excites with a vibrant ruby light, spreading a shockwave of ionic plasma across the rocky terrain! Several colonists are caught in its path of destruction, and their bodies are **ripped to shreds** by the energy's destructive composition!_

_Damien flaps his wings softly, allowing himself to lightly descend to his feet._

_"Rest in peace… **Unmerciful Kiss!**" my boy turns around, aiming the tang of his sickle at the remaining groups of settlers. A massive shockwave of ionic plasma emerges from his blade, cutting through the final wave in mere seconds. Damien remains poised in his final position; however, his head is lowered with silent anger. I know when my boy's crying…and that's what he's doing right now. "…It's finished… Go and be with God now. I hope that you can forgive those who've done you wrong, and only remember the precious moments of your lives…**if** **they even allowed you to have something as simple as that!**"_

_Damien feels my strong arms wrap around his waist. _

_His scythe materializes into a flash of crimson light, and gently evaporates within his cold white grasp. Tears of pained lamentation fall from his eyes, as his body loses its transformation. In the process, the threading of his shirt is rewoven back onto his frame. My fiancé turns on his heel, and mournfully clings to me._

_"There, there…" my kind voice eases the pain just a little bit. "...It's all right, love. This is what they wanted. You've done right by them...and that's all that really matters."_

_"Daddy…I…"_

_"Shh…hush yourself now", his embrace becomes a little tighter, proving the depths of his despair._

_But wait a second… Something's not right. This feeling…it's..._

"Damien, _why_ do I still feel your existence?"

_"…Because it's not over", Natalie and her loyal agents stand at our side, as the slaughtered limbs begin fusing together at a rapid pace. Damien and I look around, beholding the second breath of the fallen colonists. "…Necromancy is a superpower in its own right. If we're going to exact the wishes of these people, then we're going to have to work together on this… DC, you did an **excellent** job out there."_

"Thanks, Nattie…" my fiancé lets go of me, turns around and bravely stands in our line of power. "…I guess I _underestimated_ Hunico's power. I _won't_ make that mistake _ever again_."

_My boy appears to be learning more about the principles of battle as time progresses… But, the time for flowers has come to a temporal pause. Our eyes **fiercely** meet the image of the mourning mass!_

_**_(***Group Image Song – "Invincible" by Pat Benatar***)_**_

_"Everyone, attack them with **all** you've got!" righteously rallies my boy with dauntless spirit. Our existences activate at the same time, combining our territories into one **massive** powerhouse. **"Embrace the afterlife! Crossroads!"**_

**_"Burn the masses! Wild Orchid!"_**

**_"Rot to the core! Green Day!"_**

**_"Time's up! Clockwork Orange!"_**

**_"Expand! Paradise City!"_**_ the arisen colonists behold, in awe, the monstrous intensity of our combined supernatural muscle… Natalie's **Wild Orchid**, Stephen's **Green Day**, Raj's **Clockwork Orange**, Damien's **Crossroads**, and **my Paradise City**. I've never felt such** power** in my entire life! We're **truly** a unit of **absolute** **force**… And the feeling of such **energy's** starting to **excite** my half-bred blood! **"…Alright, everyone! Take no prisoners!"**_

__**_"Right!"_**_ my loved ones are in agreement with my ambitions and, together, we charge forth into battle.___

* * *

><p><em>The battle at Copa Cabana's plaza has reached a fatal level of intensity.<em>

_Místico is locked in an aerial struggle of physical strength and reflexes with his maniacal elder brother – their limbs shooting **faster** than the human eye can comprehend! The chivalrous luchador lands a perfect right upper to his brother's solar plexus, ending their blinding struggle… Místico sends his evil sibling **rocketing away** on the leading end of a **powerful** thunderbolt!_

**_"AAH…!"_**_ Hunico's raspy wailing decorates the misty skies, before he changes his battle stratagem. The sociopathic rudo tucks his knees to his chest, performing a graceful aerial roll into a rough landing on his feet… Hunico skids backwards across the dusty ground upon his dirtied boots, as he mentally unleashes a steaming wave of mist at his airborne sibling. **"Die! Burning Bridge!"**_

_"I don't think so… **Diamond Geyser!**" TJ rouses the zirconium minerals of the earth. A rising storm of razor sharp diamonds ferociously emerges from the fissures before Hunico's Burning Bridge attack. The steaming cloud's path of destruction is blocked by the strategic front. **"Lu, hurry up and knock him out!"**_

_The war-tough técnico rouses Thunder's electrical currents, causing a thick shell of lightning to form on his solid frame. Místico leaps **high** into the air, spinning in a counterclockwise fashion!_

**_"Thunder…God Heart!"_**_ Místico furiously punts a massive sphere of voltage to his grounded elder brother._

_Hunico retreats by leaping backwards in time to escape the earth-crushing impact… The sociopathic rudo lands on a cloud of mist that he uses to evasively surf through the air. Hunico venomously beams at his opponents, before unleashing another surging wave of steam from his fists… directing it towards TJ's grounded body._

**_"Shine Delusion!"_**_ the furious youth minister materializes several floating diamonds in front of his party, causing them to flash a blinding ray of white light._

_Hunico's blinded by the destructive light, covering his eyes in unbearable pain, and brings an end his second Burning Bridge attack!_

**_"AHH…MY EYES!"_**

**_"What is difference now, hermano?"_**_ the righteous técnico lunges forward, gracefully spinning into a flying right roundhouse kick to the blinded rudo's left temple! "You blind to begin with… **Buenos noches, Jorge!**"_

_Místico finishes by discharging a dangerous current on his extended limb, savagely launching the sociopathic rudo to the right. The cranial impact knocks Hunico into a mentally incapacitating concussion._

**_"GAAH…!"_**_ the rudo's shriek of defeat colors the sky, as he lands **roughly** on his right side._

_TJ calms his blinding light, regrouping with his landing partner. The old friends look down to the fallen necromancer, beholding the conclusive scene of a **century** old vendetta._

_"Lu…it's done", proudly declares the youth minister, as the chivalrous técnico pulls out a set of cybernetic handcuffs. Brother Theodore watches as the sociopathic rudo is cuffed and mentally restrained by the younger Sin Cara. TJ walks up to Hunico and symbolically relieves him of his decorative máscara, revealing a heavily bruised profile. The unmasked Father Jorge shoots the angered Canadian a **fierce** glare of resentment… However, our favorite youth minister remains cool-headed in the face of the detained convict. "…Don't make that face at me, Jo. You're a **bad** representation of what it means to be a **'real'** luchador… You don't **deserve** to wear this máscara anymore. Lu, let's get this bozo out of here."_

"10-4, amigo", Father Luis escorts his elder brother to the backseat of his car, which is blocked off by a thick iron cage. The proud Mexican agent locks his brother in the backseat, feeling some remorse for Father Jorge. He catches his elder brother's attention with his kind words. "Eh, hermano… _I'm sorry_."

_"…I know, Luis. You no have to tell me."_

"All set, bro?" Father Luis receives a pat on his back from his old field partner.

____Father Luis looks to the Canadian Adonis, giving him a proud nod, "Si… let's roll out."____

* * *

><p><em>Natalie leaps high above a group of attacking cadavers, landing gracefully in the center of a carnivorous mob. The beautiful radical mentally rouses <strong>crucifixes of raging flames<strong> with her dancing arms, positioning them as a strategic 360-degree barrier around her buxom frame._

**_"Blaze! Crossfire Madonna!"_**_ the flaming crucifixes shoot forth, burns through the surrounding mob, and reduces them to collected piles of smoking ash._

_Stephen dashes forward, leading an angry mass of wailing zombies at his tail. The athletic big man leaps forward, aerially changing direction to face the oncoming flock. Upon landing, he brutishly digs his right fist into the ground, expanding his thorny briars through the earth's crust! The Green Day briars emerge from the grounds underneath the mob, **impaling** their bodies with executing force!_

**_"Decay! Ungrateful Dead!"_**_ the mass of cadavers are injected with a venomous toxin that seeps from the emerald briars' biting thorns. The injected bodies rapidly decay in the process, being reduced to a mass of soppy ashes. Stephen retracts his Green Day briars, pumped with masculine excitement and gusto! **"Yeah baby! That's what I'm talking about!"**_

_"**Hmm**…what a violent old fool", Father Yuvraj confidently remains stationary, allowing a large mass of zombies to come inches away from **ripping** him to shreds. With amazing precision and timing, the Punjabi-Canadian nightwalker leaps high into the air, escaping in the nick of time. Raj excites his control over the time-space continuum, mentally activating his **Chronos Bind** around the airborne mass. Raj draws his bullwhip from his jacket, as he lands on his feet in the center of the crowd. "This is the end… **Time Splitter!**"_

_Father Yuvraj wildly lashes his whip in a full 360-degree radius, ripping cuts through the time-space continuum… He leaps high into the air, gliding to a perfect landing outside of his Chronos Bind barrier. Chronos Bind deactivates, and the undead bodies spontaneously **sever** into a lifeless ash._

_Damien summons his crystalline scythe in his normal civilian form, reaping through the masses with great precision and dexterity. My boy dodges every attack thrown at him, speedily reacting at the drop of a dime. A large group of the undead approaches him from his rear. Damien remains cool-headed, turns on his heel and digs the sickle of his crystalline scythe into the pavement._

**_"Battle Dance 02: Bloody Mary – Activate!"_**_ his righteous command causes stakes of crimson matter to emerge from the ground, impaling all oncoming cadavers with deadly force. Damien pulls his sickle out of the ground, leisurely turning around with his scythe's staff rested on his shoulders in his right hand. My boy rakes his hair out of his face, and speaks with a cool tone. "Mission…complete."_

_A vibrant burst of ruby light flashes from the stakes of crimson matter, cremating the impaled bodies into a pile of glowing ash… My boy's vigor and passion **rouses** the pumping blood of my warrior's heart!_

_I look forward at the oncoming mob, my body beginning to **shine** with Paradise City's vibrant glow._

_"I feel…**stronger!**"_

_My excitement savagely launches me forth into battle. My righteous fists burn through the mass of cadavers with an unorthodox boxing style… Ducking, leaping, dodging, bounding – I've never exhibited such **incredible** physical dexterity in my entire life! Each evasive maneuver is ended with a perfectly calculated punch – uppercuts, jabs, straights, haymakers, light attacks, power attacks – that burns the creatures of death to a cinder._

**_"The finishing touch! Sunlight Finger!" _**_I unrestrainedly execute a mighty right straight, unleashing a **massive** concussion wave of solar energy from my aimed fist!_

_The colossal ray of sunlight **burns** through the final wave of undead pioneers, putting an end to the nightmarish front. My friends regroup at my side, proud to see that I've become stronger in this highly emotional battle… My boy allows his crimson scythe to evaporate, and clings onto my warm body. Paradise City reacts to my emotions, gently embracing my boy with my warm aureole._

"Looks like someone's _upgraded_ a notch or two", points my favorite ginger boy with a proud smirk.

_"That was…**amazing**…" I look at my glowing right fist, feeling the **outstanding** power packed into it. This makes my old bareknuckle boxing days look like child's play. "…Paradise City is truly an **extraordinary** existence. Looks like you were right all along, Natalie."_

_"Naturally"_, the beautiful vampiress flips her hair with a cocky grin.

"Everyone, _look_", Father Yuvraj rallies our vision to the territory covering the smalltown.

_It's rapidly reducing in size… The battle's **finally** over._

We can soon see Father Luis's Mazda heading in our direction. We're excited to see that the boys were successful in the seizure of the _notorious_ clergyman. Lu pulls his silver Protégé over and parks, allowing Theodore to exit through the passenger seat door. The youth minister closes the door, joining the party at his girlfriend's left. We look to the detained rudo, beholding his _venomous_ glare.

"He cause_ no more_ trouble for us", promises the masked técnico, rousing our proud attention.

_"Good show, boys. Make sure to lock him up with **rats**, so he can feel **right** at home."_

"He no get _special_ _attention_ from me, Estuardo", the cool técnico looks over his shoulder at his elder brother, offending the roughed up Father Jorge. Father Luis's máscara fits the shape of his humored grin. "You no give me that look, hermano. You deserve _everything_ coming your way, yes?"

_"Do your **worst**, hermanito", smugly dares the cocky rudo._

_Damien becomes curious and approaches the detained Father Jorge._

_"Jo…why – why did you do it, man? You're the nicest person that I've worked with so far… I don't get it."_

_"There some things in life we **no** **able** to understand, Damián… But, Jorge really **like** you, so I give fair warning to you, bonito… Stay **far** **away** from Count Valdo von Dracula."_

_"You…tried to **kill** Count Valdo…?"_

_"He **very** **dangerous** man, Estuardo – more powerful than **all** you combined, yes? You may learn new trick, hombre, but you **still** **no** **powerful** **enough** to face him… You do good by no face **'El Maestro Vampiro'** with muy débil existence, amigo."_

Natalie, _no matter how much she despises all clergymen_, has to agree with Father Jorge's words of wisdom. She stubbornly folds her arms, turning her head away to her right.

"He's right… We're _fairly strong_ when we band together, but we're _still no match_ for the Count. At our current power levels, we're not even a match for the Pope _or_ _even the King_ for that matter. Still, we've come _too far_ to turn back now… _We'll just have to keep going until all three of them are no more._"

TJ looks to his old field partner with a proud smile, "I guess you'll be on your way now, huh?"

_"I come if you need help. Luis is only phone call away, hermano."_

"Cool… Have a safe trip, man", the partners shake hands like brothers.

_"Amigos, heed mi hermano's words… **Stay clear of 'Chateau de Nocturnus'.** If Count sees you, he ambush you and **kill** you on sight. Until next time, have safe journey."_

"You too, Lu", TJ releases his friend's right hand, steps back and allows the masked _badass_ to drive off into the distance. _Using the term 'badass' is **more** than appropriate right now._ Luis has to be the _coolest_, if not _the most daring_ _radical_ I've crossed paths with. It's such a shame that he's unable to join our group… He'd make an _excellent_ _addition_ to our numbers. Brother Theodore turns to us and beams proudly. "Well, I guess we can continue our trip to Willington, now that we're _done_ with all of that."

_"Good form, TJ. I say we leave at this very second… But still, I'm becoming **quite** **curious** about the current condition of that town."_

____"We _all_ are, Stu", we look in the distance to see the powerful territory reaching its last bm of area. Stephen rallies our curiosity with his inquisitive nature. "Let's go take a look before heading off. I've _got_ to know the truth… _I want to see if Hunico's existence was **really** that powerful._"____

* * *

><p><em>Suzie Q has just separated herself from the swooning female engineers.<em>

_After sitting in the middle of **a pool of** **aroused** **estrogen** for a couple of minutes_, a girl like Suzie Q needs a break. She takes refuge in the women's restroom, hoping to find _some_ _kind_ of peace and quiet.

_"**Geez!** You'd think they were at some **gushy** boy band concert"_, huffs the beautiful Goth, as she begins checking her hair. She notices a long strand of blonde hair resting on her shoulder… She dismisses it as probably belonging to one of the crooning fangirls' _bad weaves_. She becomes stink-faced with disgust, picks the loose hair, and flicks it into the trash can underneath the sink. _"**Eww!** Mindless zombie germs… Somebody **shoot** me."_

_"Oh, that's **far** too lenient for a **disgusting** **fleshie** like you", Suzie Q freezes, hearing a **venomous** female's voice sounding from behind her. The beautiful Goth turns around, and is instantly **throttled** by a strong right hand… Suzie Q looks into the eyes of the vengeful nun, **Sister Mary Victoria**. "I feel your pain, dear… Your brother's **quite** the eyesore, and I plan on using **you** to lure him out."_

_"Let…me…**go**…" gags the beautiful Goth, being **shaken** to instill fear in her heart._

_Sister Mary Victoria takes delight in hearing Suzie Q's shriek, "**Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!** We're going to be **good** **friends**, you and I… I **do** hope that you enjoy it – **helping** **with the demise of White Noise and** **his cold-blooded Highwaymen**. Maybe you won't have to put up with **a congregation of smoldering hot vaginas** every month."_

_"This…isn't right! **Stop this!**" the heartless nun **shakes** the beautiful Goth to silence, once again._

_"Be a good girl…**and come quietly!**"_

_____She's lost it… Sister Mary Victoria's involving an innocent young girl in her **twisted** game of death._____

* * *

><p><em>Father Andrew's reached the end of his speech, and concludes his presentation with a few short words.<em>

"…And so, my _lovely_ engineers, I'll end this with a quote from my book – _The Art of Progressive Science._ Remember this: _'the human mind is a great power – use it wisely'_… Thank for attending this demonstration, and have a _good_ rest of your day."

_Father Andrew blows a kiss to the mass of femme engineers, making them hormonally **shout** like a flock of excited hens. The suave genius joins his Methuselahs in bowing to the excited mass of hormonal freshmen… But then, a familiar voice **toweringly** sounds from the balconies above the crowed._

**_"Oh, Randy…!"_**_ the furious feminine voice silences the congregation, and attracts the attention of **everyone** in the Theater. The people are shocked to see the vengeful daughter of the Church in their midst. White Noise and his Methuselahs remain emotionless in front of the femme terrorist. **"…I'd like to congratulate you on your little presentation to these mindless droids, but I believe that ending with just 'a few small words' makes your dissertation seem very…'lackluster'. I'd expect more from such highly esteemed infidels."**_

_"Sister Mary Victoria, I presume?" giggles the humored Scottish scientist, stepping forward to speak for his party. His voice is amplified by the fiber optic microphone attacked to his left ear. "You've come a **long** way from Rutherford, miss. Surely you're not thinking of **ambushing** this quiet little gathering."_

**_"Oh, trust me…I've already covered enough ground to set you fools into submission!"_**_ the vengeful femme fatale cruelly drags a gagged Suzie Q by the hair with a firm left grip. Brother Randal sees his little sister, and **chokes** on the taste of fear's poisonous brew. Mary Victoria **laughs** at the Methuselah's angst. **"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…! Look at who I've found toying around in the restroom, Randy! Your sweet, beautiful, precious little sister! Say 'hi' to your big brother, sweetie."**_

_The cruel nun ungags the young lady, allowing her to tearfully extend a warning to her brother, "Don't listen to her, Randy! She's crazy with vengeance! She's going to–!"_

_Mary Victoria stuffs the thick wrapping of the girls ripped blouse back into her mouth, shutting her up._

_Brother Randal becomes roused with anger._

**_"You God-damned cultist bitch! Let her go – she has nothing to do with this!"_**

**_"Oh? Did you think that as well…when you KILLED my loved ones, Randy?"_**_ the cruel nun's vengeful words strike the heated Methuselah with silence, but his **furious** body language speaks a thousand unsaid words. Her voice is still elevated, but the beautiful nun calms it down to a gentle, yet venomous tone. **"…Let's see how you feel, Randal…AFTER I DROP THIS DIGUSTIG HARLOT TO HER DEATH!"**_

_Father Andrew and the Methuselahs are sent into a state of shock… But their shock pails to the amount of fear that courses through Brother Randal's heart._

**_"No…NO, DON'T–!"_**

**_"Say goodbye, big brother!"_**_ Mary Victoria tosses the beautiful Goth over the ledge, sending her screaming to fatal drop of 25-feet above the bottom floor._

**_"RANDYYYY…!"_**_ the beautiful nun laughs at the sight of the falling beauty's overwhelming fear._

_And then it happens… **Randy completely snaps!**_

**_"SUZIE, NO…!" _**_the angered Methuselah activates his ionic batwing jets, swiftly taking to the air._

_With one attempt, Brother Randal catches his younger half-sister's body, saving her from meeting an untimely death… Suzie Q opens her eyes, looking up to her elder brother's tearful smile. Sister Mary Victoria quietly flees the scene, as the heroic Methuselah glides down upon the decreased intensity of his ionic jets._

_The mass of female engineers applauds his performance, as the loving elder brother ungags and unties his little sister. Suzie Q holds onto the cybernetic radical, allowing tears of relief to fall from her glassy eyes._

_"Thank you, Randy…" Brother Randal holds onto his younger sibling, as his creator and fellow Highwaymen rally to his side._

_"I'm glad you're all right, Sue", the Infinity operatives' eyes fiercely look up to see that the cowardly nun's fled from the scene of wicked misconduct. Brother Randal looks to the mass and gives them a few orders. "We want you girls to remain **here** until we're finished with this. That nun's no ordinary 'well-to-do worshipper' – she'll **kill** **all of you** if she has to. Oh, and Donna...come here for a sec, sweetie."_

_The spectacled beauty nervously stumbles up to Brother Randal, shivering with delight._

_"Um…um…um…um…" the spectacled engineer is unable to utter a word beyond her nervousness._

"Donna, could you guys take care of my little sis for me?"

_"Um…um…um…um…uh…s-s-s-s-sure!"_

"If you girls do a good job at it, we'll bring back _'something special' for all of you_", Randal flirtatiously kisses, _suavely_ _romancing_ the female engineers into a comical collapse.

_Suzie Q holds her head, embarrassed by the girls' fatuous reactions._

_Brother Randal releases his little sister, leaving her to join his creator and fellow Highwaymen in their pursuit. Suzie Q watches her heroic brother race to put an end to the vengeful nun's mindless behavior… For the **first** time in her life, the beautiful Goth's attitude does a complete 180-degree turn._

_("Randy…saved me? **Wow! **That was…**so cool!**") she looks behind her at the mass of fallen female engineers, remembering **why** she was embarrassed to begin with. Her attitude does a '180' again, and she resorts to her **usual** sarcastic commentary. "Um…are you guys like, I don't know…**glued** to the floor or something?"_

**_"Ah, so dreamy…"_**_ comically swoons the mass of fangirls._

_Even after all of that, the female engineers are **still** acting like a bunch of **hormonal middle school children**._

_Suzie Q palms her head, giving up on her fellow students._

______"**Ugh**...help me", huffs the highly mortified Goth.______

* * *

><p><em>Our suspicions have been proven to be <strong>frighteningly<strong> correct._

"Is this…_a graveyard?_" yes, we were really standing in the middle of _a large gravesite_. Damien walks forward and finds a tombstone that's _all too familiar_. We gather at his side to see the _shocking_ words engraved on the stone tablet. _"Here lies Brother Enrique M. Iglesias – Alpha: September 19, 1791 – Omega: June 9th, 1800. Cause of death: Malnutrition… That poor child didn't even get to see his 10th birthday. How cruel… The Church sunk even lower and left behind the cause of death… As if **allowing** this to happen wasn't cold-blooded enough."_

_We're left speechless… But Natalie seems to be feeling **most** of the pain._

_"…We should get going now, guys", the former royal sharply turns on her heel, causing a few teardrops to color the air with a light sparkle._

_"Good idea, Nattie", Stephen agrees, following the mourning boss lady._

_The grim truth has been revealed…_

_…The boy that Father Jorge impersonated died of starvation when he was **only** a toddler. Little Enrique and many other children weren't able to see their teens…their adulthood…**life** itself. The large mass of fallen settlers – their memories will stay in our hearts for as **long** as we live. We depart from the Copa Cabana Gravesite, and not a single word is uttered for the rest of the trip._

_______God bless you…**all** of you… You truly didn't deserve this._______

* * *

><p><em>Sister Mary Victoria patiently awaits the arrival of her prey, standing silently and peacefully on the James M. Hendrix Music Hall's large rooftop.<em>

_The vengeful nun closes her eyes and leans her head back, allowing the crisp breeze to brush across her holy robes… For the first time in years, the vengeful nun will be able to put her existence of the stars, **Material Girl**, to good use. She's well aware that what she's doing is **suicidal**, but Mary Victoria's mind has been made up._

_("I may die tonight, but I don't care… At least I'd die knowing that I'd fall into the arms of my loved ones… Papa Klaus, I hope you're doing well… And Terry, my love… I hope you're keeping him company. You two were really close, so I know that you're probably playing Blackjack, just like the good old days… Excuse me, guys – it's time for me 'to face the music'… Wish me well…")_

**_"Victoria…!"_**_ the sound of the angered elder brother sounds from her rear, and the Doppler effect works its magic… The sound of the Methuselah's ionic jets roars from her rear, but Mary Victoria refuses to look the enemy in the eyes at the moment. Father Andrew and his Highwaymen have arrived. The Methuselahs deactivate their cybernetic batwings, landing firmly on the rooftop. Father Andrew is safely placed on his feet by a gentle wind. The vengeful nun still refuses to face the enemy. "…Victoria Elizabeth Crawford, what the **fuck's** gotten into you, woman? What you did back there was **a** **direct violation of your tenets of faith!** As much as I can't **stand** the Church, **I have to give them props for forbidding such despicable endeavors? DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY FOR YOURSELF, YOU PSYCHOTIC BITCH?**"_

_Yes, it's true… If you don't recognize her by now, Sister Mary Victoria's one of our company's **prized** Divas._

_Victoria Elizabeth Crawford, a.k.a. **Alicia Fox** – a former DIVAS Champion of amazing beauty, and a very talented competitor on our Smackdown brand… However, underneath the glam and glitter is a **vicious** killer. She was once one of the Church's **top** assassins, but she left the battlefield to someday start a family with the deceased Brother D'Arby… Now that her happy dreams have been **crushed**, Victoria can see **nothing** **but red**. Victoria's the daughter of an African-American mother and an Afro-British father… I'm sure that the idea's never crossed their minds – their little girl becoming the world's **most** **legendary** femme fatale._

_"I don't have something **'to say'**…" the beautiful vestal sharply turns on her heel, revealing that she's holding her prized Japanese WW2 naval dirk – her weapon of expertise – in her right grasp. Victoria stole this dirk from a fallen soldier that she slew during an assassination attempt in the early 1940s. The beauty's claimed the heads of **several** Infinity agents with this dirk, and she's ready to do it once again. "…I believe that I have something **'to do'**, my friends. **Believe** me when I say this... I'm going to **enjoy **killing every last one of you!"_

_"We'd like to see you **back** **up** all of that trash talk, **bitch**!" Sarona joins her fellow Highwaymen in drawing an M.B. Access: Upgrade Card from the deck stored in their belt buckles._

_"I'm **begging** you, Vickie…give up while you still can", pleads the Scottish scientist, as his Methuselahs insert their Upgrade Cards into the metallic slots of their cybernetic right arms. The beautiful nun remains silent, answering them with an offensive flashing of her cold steel… Father Andrew **dreads** doing this, but he must authorize the **complete** **annihilation** of the heartbroken vestal. "…I see that there's no talking to you anymore, Vickie. I'm not one to argue with dames, so I'll let you have at us… But I'm warning you, sister…we don't serve half-assed orders at **this** drive-in, miss."_

_"Go ahead and activate your existences…" daringly invites the vengeful nun, eyes cold with blind indignation. "…I want to fight you at your best, so you won't have any regrets. Go on…**do it**."_

**_"Delighted to, miss"_**_, Father Andrew rallies the excitement of his Methuselahs, as he holds his right hand in a finger-snapping position. His voice righteously reverberates, displaying his passionate intensity. **"Scream vibrantly! Echoes!"**_

_Father Andrew snaps his fingers, causing a watery transparent territory to expand from his body._

_Brother Randal activates his cybernetic existence of the wind, **"Authorization! M. B. Access: Aerosmith – 20%!"**_

**_"Authorization! M. B. Access: Revolver – 20%!"_**_ a ghostly mounted automatic gun turret forms on Sister Sarona's right arm, and is threateningly aimed at the vengeful nun._

**_"Authorization! M. B. Access: Sex Pistols –20%!"_**_ a ghostly set of dual automatic pistols form in Brother Heath's hands, and silently claim Victoria as their next target._

**_"Authorization! M. B. Access: Illusion – 20%!" _**_a storming funnel of rose petals forms a barrier around Brother Paul's body, as he poises himself in the standing 'tachi-ai' posture of the Iaijutsu discipline._

_The Methuselahs' territories activate in perfect unison, creating a colossal prismatic field of cybernetic energy that **would** cover **5000 bm** of expansion area at their maximum level. However, their low percentiles have reduced that to a mere 400 bm. They're not too far from the Pressley Theatre, which was a part of Victoria's plan from the very start… If the operatives fight at their maximum level, they risk **injuring** the engineers inside of the auditorium. They **can't** **risk** something like that, not even for a homicidal maniac who's lost **all** of her screws._

_Victoria's finally standing in the face of those who've taken so much from her…_

_…However, the biggest reason for her anger should **not** be pointed at these people…but at another. We **all** know that it wasn't Brother Randal, Father Andrew, **or** **any** of the Highwaymen that took Brother D'Arby's life. It was **Father Yuvraj**, who claimed the heard of the murderous clergyman. Sadly, Victoria has closed her ears to **all** forms of reasoning._

_She's fighting a meaningless battle – one that could very well **end** her life._

_What will become of this heated confrontation? Will Father Andrew and his Highwaymen be able to stand up to the unknown terrors of Victoria's existence of the stars? Or, will the vengeful nun's merciless onslaught send the Infinity operatives to their **deaths**?_

_Also, what will happen when we **finally** make it to Willington?_

_Will there be **another** clergyman waiting for us? Or, will we finally be able to find a moment's rest? Those questions and so **many** **more** will be answered soon enough._

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_

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><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme <em>– "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>_**

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><p><strong><em><em>(Up Next: Chapter 9 <em>– Frozen)<em>__**


	10. Chapter 9: Frozen

_**BLOOD/Night**_

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><p><em><strong>(Opening Theme – "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<strong>_

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><p><em><strong>(Warning from the Writer: This chapter contains scenes of MM sexuality, nudity, and strong sexual situations which aren't suitable for some viewers. Don't get offended - this story's not just about the fighting and the action, but about the Wade/OC romance that I've taken the liberty of creating. I do hope that you, the readers, have an open mind... Then again, I've seen a couple of the M/M wrestling pairings and I've seen "the priceless reactions"... Oh, what the hell! Just enjoy the content, folks :) Take care, everyone.)**_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 9 – <strong>**Frozen**_

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><p><em>The battle on Hendrix Music Hall's rooftop <strong>rages<strong> on._

_The Highwaymen take to the air upon their ion-powered cybernetic batwings. Father Andrew remains perfectly still, watching his scientific genius at work. Brother Heath and Sister Sarona begin with an offensive spray of Sex Pistols' ghostly bullets and Revolver's deadly high voltage blasts of electricity._

_Sister Mary Victoria poses a strong offensive front, evading and dodging **every** projectile thrown at her. Sister Sarona proceeds using a defensive long-range front, firing ethereal shots of thunder from her aimed mounted turret. Her electrically shots fly forth with **lethal** precision. The beautiful vestal dances through the wildfires of the Samoan Methuselahs artillery, humored by how **slow** her opponent is compared to her._

_"Is that the **best** that you can do, Ronnie?" laughs the dancing vestal, evading with amazing grace and elegance. Sister Sarona loses patience, and fires a massive ray of electrical energy from her mounted turret. Brother Heath supports his comrade by spraying a blinding array of ghostly shells from his spectral handguns. The spectral bullets, combined with Sister Sarona's ray of thunder, becomes **a double** **threat**. The vengeful nun scoffs at the sight of their weak front. "**Hm!** Useless – absolutely **useless**!"_

_The ruthless sister leaps **high** into the air, escaping the deadly impact of the electrified shells. The double threat of electrified bullets trails outside of the territory's boundaries… They lose composition, being **unable** to exist outside of a metaphysical dimension._

_In a blur, Brother Paul appears before the beautiful vestal with **an** **intense** **ogle**!_

_"Live by the sword, **die** by the sword…right?" the arrogant sister gets her answer in the form of cold steel._

_Mary Victoria dodges the horizontal precision drawing of the swordsman's blade. The dexterous vestal evades **every** blinding swipe that he executes, mocking him with pretentious laughter! Brother Paul remains cool in the face of his opponent, exciting his spectral rose petals to create a funneling storm around his body._

_The swordfighter draws his blade, once again, executing a blinding array of precision slashes. The nimble vestal continues to evade his every attack, insultingly chuckling at his violent efforts._

_"My word! Your technique is **astounding**, PJ", she stops his blinding attack by blocking his steel with her dirk's smaller blade. Brother Paul's image dematerializes into a fleeting bed of roses, revealing a forthcoming transparent discus of high-frequency sound waves. The beautiful vestal bounds from the gathered wind at her feet, dodging the sound waves with an evasive aerial roll. "…440 MHz of sound energy, huh? Not bad."_

_Mary Victoria looks down to see Brother Randal ascending towards her with **blinding** speed!_

_The vengeful vestal dives down, descending at the same deadly rate! The vestal's cold steel rears back for a killing blow, but she gets **an** **unanticipated** **surprise** … Brother Randal **fakes** **left** with a quick dashing feint, **throwing** the beautiful vestal off her game._

**_("What the–? Such speed!")_**_ she is suddenly surprised by Father Andrew, who unleashes a **destructive** high-frequency wave from his relaxed grounded position. The beautiful vestal is caught in the **mentally disruptive** cloud of 440 MHz sound waves, holding her ears to keep them from being damaged. **"DAMN YOU! CUT IT OUT…!"**_

_"No give, miss", the cocky Scotsman rallies his Methuselahs with a righteous voice. **"Methuselahs – the finishing touch, now!"**_

_"Gladly!" Sister Sarona recharges the voltage of her mounted turret by cranking her arm. She aims her discharging barrel at the stationary vestal, and fires a **massive** wave of electricity with **deadly** precision. **"Tactic 02: No Mercy – Activate!"**_

_Brother Paul takes his turn, **mentally** **rousing** his cybernetic existence of vision._

**_"Tactic 01: Deserted Queen – Activate!"_**_ Brother Paul excites Illusion's rose petals, causing them to funnel around his right hand. He releases a powerful storm of spiraling petals that moves with speeds capable of **severing** **the hardest** **tempered steel**. He notices Brother Heath connecting his automatic handguns, inserting the right firearm into a mechanically opened compartment in the back of the left one. "Looks like you're going all out, huh?"_

_"You bet!" the connected handguns mechanically reshape into a cybernetic shotgun. The red-haired gunslinger aims his barrel at the stationary vestal, as Brother Randal excites the wind for a killing attack of his own. Brother Heath fires a **colossal** ray of ethereal energy from his barrel. **"Tactic 02: Emotionless Heart – Activate!"**_

**_"Tactic 00: Get Your Wings – Activate!"_**_ Brother Randal intensifies the impact of every projectile thrown at the vestal by covering the waves with a **thick** shell of storming wind. The combined attacks **crash** into the incapacitated nun's body, but it appears as if something strange is happening…. Brother Randal's eyes widen at the sight of what the sister's pulling. ("Is she going to…? **Uh-oh!** This could be a problem!")_

**_"Dazzling Beauty! Material Girl!"_**_ a sparkling territory of stars expands from the beautiful vestal's body._

_The expansion disrupts the composition of all oncoming waves, causing them to **break** into nothingness._

_Father Andrew ceases firing his frequency waves, quietly beholding the beauteous glow of the existence of the stars… **Material Girl**, a legendary existence that calls upon the forces of the cosmos, is a **cruel** image of exquisiteness. Those who've gazed into its gentle glow have **never** lived to talk about it._

_"I'm **done** playing games with the lot of you", the lovely sister's enraged eyes grasp the attention of the operatives, calling Father Andrew to join his Methuselahs in the air-bound front. "It's good of you to join us, Father Andrew… It's better to **die** at your children's side, then to watch them **fall** like a **coward**."_

_"Plan on getting **serious**, miss?"_

_"I don't **'plan'** on it, Andrew…" the starlit existence begins to **excite**, causing the air within the enlarged territory **thin** **with each fleeting second**. Father Andrew's not affected by the change…but his Methuselahs…are **losing** their ability to breathe. The Highwaymen are mentally incapable of controlling their cybernetic technology, and their batwings' ionic jets are spontaneously deactivated… The Methuselahs fall and **collapse** onto the rooftop, as Father Andrew's anger surfaces as a **furious** burning stare. The vengeful nun looks into the eyes of the cybernetic genius with a cold stare. "…I **promise** you, Drew… I **promise** that you **won't** live to see another day!"_

_"Nobody, but **nobody**…hurts my little kiddos…" Father Andrew's eyes shine vibrantly with a **blinding** white light. Sister Mary Victoria covers her eyes, shielding her vision from being damage. She suddenly feels a strong blur of wind **brushing** past her, coming to a swift halt at her rear. The frightened vestal looks over her shoulder, gazing into the **terrifying** **glowing** **gaze** of the enraged Scotsman. Mary Victoria utilizes her air control to turn on her heel, rear her steel above her head, and drive her blade's point for his skull. Father Andrew puts an end to her assassination attempt by grabbing onto her right wrist, mentally psyching her with his **furious** glare. "…No more moves, miss. Sorry, but you've no more **chips** **to deal** **in this game of 'blood poker'**!"_

_Sister Mary Victoria's dirk shatters into a thousand pieces in her hand, ripping at the skin upon her entire right arm! The beautiful vestal suffers an incapacitating injury that leavesher right limb in **a useless state**! The former assassin leaps back, holding onto her bleeding arm, drowning her screams of pain with gritting teeth._

_"How does it feel, miss?" the injured nun shoots he cultured Scot a venomous glare, as her territory is **spontaneously** **deactivated**. Mary Victoria looks around in confusion, wondering **why** her source of defense is fading away… The Methuselahs are able to breathe now – Material Girl's oxygen consuming power is no more. Father Andrew holds his right hand forward in a finger-snapping position, humoring himself with allowing the ruthless vestal the time to resentfully accept her defeat. "…I'm guessing you're pretty confused there, Vickie. I'll explain the transpired events you if you want me to."_

**_"Fine…go ahead"_**_, resentfully concedes the incapacitated beauty._

_"Your reason for defeat: that dirk you were using…had **dry** **blood** on it", the Methuselahs are **shocked** to hear such a thing. Mary Victoria shudders at the sound of such knowledge – to have **a vampire's kryptonite** on her prized blade has to be the **most** **dreadful** thing she's heard in **quite** some time. "…Regardless of where or **who** it comes from, vampires **can't** get dry blood in their veins. You'll be left powerless **and** vulnerable for **an** **entire** **week**."_

**_"A week…?"_**_ shrieks the stunned vestal_

_"That's right, Vickie. In other words…**you're under arrest, bitch**."_

_Father Andrew snaps his right set of fingers._

_The beautiful vestal systematically loses her ability to control the air, almost as if this were triggered by the Scotsman's suave gesture… But that's not the case. The dry blood collected from the former assassin's infamous field work…has **finally** set into her bloodstream._

_The beautiful vestal plummets down onto the rooftop, landing **roughly** on her back._

**_"AAH!"_**_ she is detained by Brother Randal and Brother Heath. The beautiful vestal attempts to fight back, struggling to get free of the Methuselahs' grasp, but her injury forbids any overaggressive movements. **"Ouch! Let me go! Release me, you murderers! I'll have your heads for this!"**_

_Sister Sarona approaches the struggling vestal, fed up with her useless bickering._

_The Samoan damsel stands before the enraged sister, receiving trash talk as a greeting._

**_"What are you gawping at, you mannish bitch? I bet you're these little murderers' sex slave! I spit on you life, you insufferable gutter slut!"_**

**_"Shut the fuck up!" _**_Sister Sarona punches the beautiful vampiress in her solar plexus with a sharp right upper. The belligerent vestal's **instantly** knocked into unconsciousness. Brother Paul regroups with his fellow Methuselahs, as Father Andrew hovers to a perfect landing. The Methuselahs look to their suave creator for further instructions. "So, what are your orders, Father? Should we dispose of this crazy bitch, or have her incarcerated?"_

_"We're radicals, Ronnie… We don't kill people, we **arrest** them. If someone dies in the line of duty, it's because of their **own** doing, **not** because of us. It was unfortunate – how the Adored Twins were whacked off so easily… But, like I said before, that was their **own** doing. Their bodies should resurface in another week from Stuart's second existence… I just **hope** that Mother Mary's done **quite** a good job on them… Anyway, take Vickie to Maximum Security **ASAP**. We don't want an existence like **hers** out on the street. I'll be **sure** to bump her threat level to a 'Class S'… This little kitten's capable of some **serious** **damage**."_

_"We'll get right on it", answers Brother Heath._

_"Good, good. Now, run along, kiddos. I'll go check on the girls before departure."_

_"Yes, Father Andrew", respectfully answers the Methuselahs._

"…And Father?" Brother Randal's concerns grasp the attention of his creator. "…Could you tell Suzie Q…that her big brother loves her, and that I'll be back soon?"

_"Don't you worry, fella… You'll get to see her soon enough."_

"Really?"

_"It's almost her 19th birthday, Randy… I'm **sure** she'll enjoy vising Infinity HQ to spend time with her **favorite super-powered bro-bro**."_

_Brother Randal is relieved… He'll soon get to spend time with his little sister._

"Thank you, Father Andrew… I'd really like that."

_"Fallout, kiddos."_

"Yes, Father Andrew", the group goes their separate ways.

_The Highwaymen escort the unconscious Sister Mary Victoria's body to Infinity HQ, where she's locked away in a Level 4 maximum security unit. Her rank increase is sent to Infinity's Records Department for filing. The beautiful nun is sealed several cells away from Father Jorge, whom she shares light conversation with from time to time… This beautiful vestal's lavish corner office job…has led her to a sentencing of 25 years to life **without** parole._

_Attempted murder._

_Aggravated assault with a deadly weapon._

_Premeditated terrorism._

_Kidnapping._

_Disturbing the peace._

_Father Andrew returns the Pressley Theater to see that some of the girls have been emotionally scarred, but his presence washes that away… Suzie Q is given the invitation to visit Infinity's center of operations. She happily takes the offer. Every girl receives an Infinity HQ-branded ballpoint pen, initiating them into the Witness Protection Program. The girls take the little trinket as if it were a crisp roll of $100 bills._

_These girls, despite their bothersome infatuations, are **very** important to Father Andrew. He hugs and embraces them like a father, enjoying his time with them before his departure. It's safe to say this… These girls are like **daughters** to him. The very thought of losing them bothers his seasoned soul._

__A real father never lets his girls see fear without **instinctively** reacting to it. Drew's **more** than worthy of that title… They're his girls…and he loves **every** last one of them.__

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><p><em>When we arrived to our destination, the pain left behind by the preceding events had lessened.<em>

_Still, we unable to talk about it._

_Our house show has been rescheduled **again**, and we're to resume business tomorrow in a live recording. I think it's for the best… Several of our coworkers have come up "missing", according to the Smackdown social network. I, to be honest with you, could really give a **damn** about meaningless hearsay at the moment._

_My emotions are on **high** right now. I'm not the most responsive person when I'm in this hardened mental state. I would rather be in the company of my boy, and **only** my boy… I need some peace and quiet, or I won't be able to compete come the next evening._

"Daddy, are you going to be okay?" my boy caresses my abdomen with his wet right hand.

_"More or less, love."_

_"Mm…this is nice"_, we're currently lounging in a warm tub of water, enjoying the gentle tickle of Damien's bubble bath. The lights are off, the air kisses us with a therapeutic potpourri, and the bathroom's gently lit with by jasmine-scented candles. My boy cradles against me like a lovable kitten, comfortably clinging to his big man. It's times like this that make my travels all the more meaningful _and_ fulfilling. "Stuey, you're still thinking about Copa Cabana…aren't you?"

_"The thought's still fresh, dear."_

"Yes, it is… But, we can't allow that to govern our lives. I think sweet little Enrique would've wanted us to keep our heads up. Besides, it's been _ages_ since he passed on. We _shouldn't_ carry on like this, continuously moping about it."

_"…Yeah", Damien knows that, when I answer him dryly, I'm not in agreement with him._

"Daddy…you're _more_ of a sweetheart than you let on", my boy's late revelation tickles me for a few short moments. The sweet little brown sugar mounts onto my lap, the warm waters decorating the quiet air with fluid reverberation. Damien allows me to feel his curvy frame, gently gifting me with a warm kiss… His lips are _sweet_, just like his nickname implies. "I want to let you know something, Stuey…"

_"What is it, Sweets?"_

"…We can only do so much. I know you _probably don't want_ to hear me say this, but it's true. Even if we _did_ have the power to face the Church's patriarchs, there's _no way_ that we could've saved someone who's already dead. I liked Enrique, too – _whether_ it was Father Jorge or not, I _still_ liked that cute little puppy… We even got to see Jo's _'silly side'_. _Yes_, he was our enemy…but I think that he was _enjoying_ _himself_…_being in the company of people that didn't initially __scrutinize his character_."

_"How do you figure that, Sweets?"_

"…The warning he extended to us", Damien closes his eyes, picturing the unmasked luchador incarcerated in _Infinity's 'Maximum Security Ward'_. "Sin Cara, Hunico, Jo, or _whatever_ you want to call him… That man was _concerned_ _about_ _us_, no matter how _twisted_ his words were. Sociopaths are those _driven_ to insanity by others. They find _pleasure_ in inflicting _a similar_ _pain_ on innocent people… But they _cringe_ at the thought of _others_ pursuing their target. A _psychopath_ would've killed _everyone_ in our party, but he _allowed_ us to evacuate the town – no struggle, no objections whatsoever. He's _completely_ insane, but he still has _some kind_ of humanity left inside of his jaded heart. No matter how _cruel_ his endeavors were, in his own way, Jo was trying to protect us… He knows just how _dangerous_ Count Valdo is, and he _doesn't_ want us to get hurt."

_"I see your point…" my boy's rather naïve, but that's what makes him who he is. Damien has a very **kind** and **loving** heart – one that sees beyond a person's faults and focuses **solely** on their strengths. I've been meaning to say this to him, and I hope that he hears my words of wisdom. "…Damien, as your man, I ask that you **remain** as you are – always looking for the good in others, trying your very **best** to avoid the bad… But **never** walk with 'a blind heart', love. You'll run into someone who'll take advantage of that…and your heart will be **broken** in the process… It'd be bad for me if I were to lose you in that way. I'm not sure if I could take that kind of pain… I may be a dhampir…but part of me is **still** human."_

_Hmm… **Well**, looks like I've gone and gotten a woody._

_Damien looks down at my hard member, knowing **well** that what he's doing gets me **in the mood**… I **love** it when my boy teases my abdomen. That **always** gets my motor running… **Mmm**, it would seem as if I've reached my peak. I'm ready to **take** him at **any** given moment._

"Want me to take care of that, dear?"

_"I'd like that, Sweets", my voice has become low with arousal._

"Where do you want it, Daddy?"

_"Right here…so I can enjoy the pleasures of your wet body", my strong right hand grabs onto the dip of his bottom. Remembering how **tight** his entrance can become, I initiate a little foreplay. "…It's been a few days, so let Daddy loosen it a bit. I'll be gentle…**just** the way you like it. So, how many this time? One? Two? More?"_

_"…Two will do nicely, Daddy", his voice has become provocatively warm._

_"Very well… I apologize if it hurts."_

_"It's okay… I can take the pain", my boy closes his eyes, preparing himself for any discomfort._

_"Alright…here we go!"_

_I gently tease the lining of his wet entrance with my fingers, digging my right hand middle and ring fingers deeper with every light stroke. His skin's starting to flush, and his breathing's becoming heavy – a sure sign that my gestures are **firing** him up. I'm not hurting him like I used to… Damien's become **used** to me being a bigger man than him, and he's grown to **love** my rough…yet **tender** touch._

_"How does it feel, love?"_

_"…It feels…so good", Damien's emotions run wild, and his sexual instincts press his lips against my **sweet** **spot** – the upper-right lining of my jaw. I gently grasp onto his supple rear with my left hand, massaging his right cheek to make the pleasure of my touch all the more…**mesmerizing**. Damien beckons to me within his stimulated moans. "…I want you in me, **now**! …Please, Daddy – fill me! …**Please**!"_

_"It's not loose enough yet, boy. Face the pleasure like a man."_

_"But Daddy…"_

_"Fine! Let's speed things up, so I won't keep you **waiting** any longer", I begin massaging his hole at a quick and **hard** pace, making the waters jingle with rapid fluidity. His breathing's become rougher, and his grip on my left shoulder's tightened **quite** a bit. He squeals with excitement, his hormones **raging** with every thrust. I tell him my reasons for becoming aggressive. "…You kissed my sweet spot, Damien. Now, you're going to have to 'pay your ticket'… There will be **no free meals** in this hotel room, boy. Your 'sweet hole' is **more** than enough to cover your bill. An hour or two should suffice – nothing more, **and** **most definitely nothing less**!"_

**_"…Oh, Daddy! …Take me now!"_**

_"Hush up and **sit** on it, **boy**", I pull my fingers out of his hole, and spank his bottom roughly._

**_"Mmm!"_**_ my boy squeals, obeying his given orders._

_The sweet brown sugar sits up on his knees, grabs onto my hard member with his left hand…and lowers his hole onto its thick, long, and **hard** structure… I'm not the most sexual person, and I'm **far** from being a deviant… But, when you **truly** **love** someone, sometimes…you just can't help yourself._

**_"Ooh!"_**_ he squeals, feeling my rod pressing against his 'spot'. It doesn't take me long to find it – I usually bump into his spot on the way in… His bum's completely mounted onto my torso, and the first thing he does before **anything** **else**… is utter the words that **any** man would **kill** to hear. "…I'd gladly take a **bullet** for you, Daddy. …I love you more than **life** itself."_

_"Do you now, Sweets?" my boy begins to shed tears of love, as he slowly gyrates his curvy hips._

_I am instantly **thrown** into a world of **passion**… A world that I wish **not** to part from._

_"I've waited **years** to find a man like you, Stuey", he whispers to me through his excited breathing, having reduced my words to rough moans. "Do you feel the same way, Daddy?"_

**_"Mmm-hmm!"_**

_"I can't **wait** to get married to you, Stuey."_

**_"Mmm! Yes, boy, tell me why!"_**

_"You're so strong…"_

**_"Yes!"_**

_"You're gentle and kind…" he thrusts his hips roughly, making me **lose** my mind._

**_"Oh, yes! Don't stop – tell me more!"_**

_"You're brave and daring…" his straddling hips begin to ripple the water, sounding the intensity of his every heated thrust. I bite my lip, trying my very best to hold my wailing… But it's not working – my boy's 'pushing my buttons' like a curious babe. "…You're the **best** lover a boy like me could **ever** ask for, Stuey…"_

_He thrusts his hips on my rod so **roughly**…that I release an erotic wail of my own._

**_"UH, sss…mmm! Preach to me, boy, preach…"_**

_"…And, Stuart…most of all…" he stops for a moment, allowing our eyes to meet. He wants me to **see** him saying these words to me – a line that I'll **never** forget for as long as I live. "…Most of all…you complete me in **every** way possible. There's **no** one else but you – I **promise** you that."_

_"No one else, boy?"_

_"No one – not **a single person** on the **face** of this earth."_

_"Oh, Sweets…" I allow my boy to press our lips together, initiating a passionately heated kiss._

_We continue our love session for the next two hours… Our lovemaking leads to several positions – anal missionary on the bathroom sink, rear penetration on several accounts, a seated ride on the flat rimming of the bathtub, and I even showboat my strength by roughly thrusting his entrance in a standing position. His moaning becomes uncontrollable with **every** moment of **uncanny** contact. My boy even curses a few times, which isn't the norm – Damien has a very clean and polite tongue, and it's downright **hilarious** to hear him use such **vulgar** language. I'm already out of breath, so I can't release my laughter like I want to. I'm reduced to light huffs **oozing** with sexual stimulation and excitement._

**_Mmm!_**_ Oh dear…looks like it's almost **"that time"**… I'll attempt to end this as **gracefully** as possible._

_"…I'm glad you're enjoying this, Sweets! …**Ah**…**Sss**, **mmm**, I think I'm going to **blow** soon!"_

**_"…Y-y-y-y-yeah! Give it to me, St…St…Stu…OH YES!"_**

_He's only able to utter an extremely excited stutter… I've pounded him into a state that a countless number of receivers **dream** of being placed in… My boy's **basking** in a **wonderland** of orgasms._

**_"St…Stu…Stu-uh! Oh…oh fuck, Daddy, yes!"_**

_"I'm your 'daddy', love?"_

**_"Yes!"_**

_"Say it, again!"_

**_"Daddy!"_**

**_"Louder – let the whole world hear it!"_**_** oh god**, I'm about to…**explode!**_

**_"Daddy…!"_**_ he screams my name one last time, as my body gives in to **overwhelming** sexual stimulation._

__I pull my rod out of his hole, decorating the lining of his entrance with my sexual juices… _I'm physically lessened to a state of hormone-inflicted weakness. I place my boy's bottom on the bathroom counter to keep us from **stumbling** over. I'm such an **idiot** sometimes…I should've put him on the counter **minutes** ago. My boy giggles at my silliness, beholding my "adolescent-like" behavior. I laugh with him, attempting to catch my breath at the same time… Our breathing settles, our hormones calm, and we can do nothing but gaze into the **warm oceans** of our eyes. We hold each other close, feeling as if we're locked away in a carnal fantasy._

_"…Daddy, I **think** we better clean up before going to bed", he notices the mess I've made._

_"No objections to that, love."_

_"…Wash **me**?" he teasingly asks._

**_"Wash me?"_**_ I mock with a lightened voice, making him giggle._

_"That's not how I **sound**, you big sniffer-faced **brute**!"_

_"Hush up and **get** in that tub, **boy**", I let go and step away from him, allowing my boy to stand to his feet. As he turns around, I **spank** his bum with my left hand, making him jump and giggle like a schoolgirl. "On the double, Damien! Don't **make** me have to remount you, again! Spit-spot, now!"_

_"Did you just say 'on the double'? **Honestly?** You sound like my **mummy**, Mr. Bennett!"_

_I spank his little bottom once again, "On the double, **now**!"_

_"**Ouch!** Okay, okay, okay!"_

_We're soon bathing once again, enjoying each other's tender touch for the next 30 minutes._

_I love my boy with **all** of my heart… Damien's the **only** **one** who can make me reach "that state". **None** of my former lovers had the power to excite me the way that **he** does._

_My boy's a special kind – a brand that big guys like me **dream** about._

_He's a lover. He's a protector. He's a fantasy. He's a never-ending reverie… He's my future husband._

__Damien…is my "everything".__

* * *

><p><em>It's now a few minutes past 1:00 AM.<em>

_Having finished our shower around 11:30 PM, Damien and I decided to turn in for the evening. I've gently clung to my boy in a spooning position on our right side… This hotel's mattress is **heavenly**. We were both passed out in less than 5 minutes – a record topping of the Marriott Hotel in Greenwich, Connecticut. Their beds aren't the best, but at least the pillow top makes up for the **poorly** **picked** bed sheeting._

_My mobile's ringtone sounds, awakening me from slumber._

_Damien's more of a heavy sleeper than me, so he hasn't moved a single muscle… **Probably** because I "worked him into submission", but I'll save my **virile** **boasting** for later. Besides, in situations like this, it's best to leave things as they are._

_I take the call, lethargically failing to check the ID screen._

"Hello?"

_"It's a fine evening, Stuart", I recognize the voice speaking to me as belonging to a fellow English competitor. My eyebrow arches in confusion. "The moon's big and silver tonight… I **despise** silver moons. They bring back **way** too many **bad** memories."_

"_Darren?_ What the _devil_ are you doing calling me at _this_ hour?"

_"Checking up on you, of course."_

"Well, it's _far too late_ to be _browsing_ through your cellular inventory."

_"I'm not so sure about that, Stu", the rude old brute's beginning to get on my nerves… But, he sparks my concern by telling me some very disturbing news. "My next opponent will be Johnny Curtis, the spineless rookie. I plan on **beating that Infinity scum-brat into a bloody pulp**… And I **do** hope you're there to watch it."_

"What are you _saying_, old man?"

The distinguished competitor _venomously_ titters at my ignorance.

_"Well, **that's** odd… I though Katherine would've told you the **truth** by now."_

_Wait a second… He called Curtis an "Infinity scum-brat". So…that means…_

**_Oh no!_**_ Don't tell me he's… **Are you fucking kidding me?** Darren's really a…?_

_"That's right, Stuart… **I'm** one of them", my heart nearly **bursts** out of my chest, hearing one of England's most well-known young legends…telling me something as **traumatizing** as this. The next thing he says makes so much sense, that I'm left speechless for a couple of minutes. "500 years ago, a vampire man fell in love with a human girl… To celebrate their love, they mated and the young lady was left with the nightwalker's seed – a ball of joy that would spark a **long** line of half-bred abominations. On the day of their wedding, I was dispatched with a few of my men to put an end to his blasphemous charade… Lord Frederic injured me with just one attack, and I was left incapacitated amidst a bloody massacre. On that glorious evening, I became **swollen** with hatred – an all-consuming ire that I've carried with me for the past **5** centuries!"_

_My breathing becomes heavy with anxiety._

_What he tells me next…sends me into a state of shock._

_"…I am the **current** informant of the Church, and the former captain of the Field Division. My **real** name is **Father Christian Joseph White**; a.k.a. **White Album the Chanter of Elegies**."_

_I **choke** on the foul taste of trepidation's **hard** liquor… I would've **never** **dreamt** such a thing. A man that I look up to in this business – Darren Matthews, known to the WWE Universe as **William Regal** –** is THE legendary White Album**… The man that **failed** to stop my Great-grandfather Frederic's revolutionary rebellion._

_"D…D-Darren, I…" I don't know what to say._

_An **overwhelming** **shock** has robbed me of my words._

_"Join us, Stuart… **Forget** about fighting, for this really doesn't involve you. It's the 'morality' of it all. Death and life were **never** meant to be one… It was 'the blood of your blood' that started everything, but he has **since** paid for his crimes… Want to know **a little secret** about your great-grandpa, Stuart?"_

_"I…uh… Sure…why not?"_

_"The secret: Lord Frederic…**isn't dead**", my heart feels like it's going to stop at any second._

_"My grandfather…**isn't**…"_

_"That's right, young man. Lord Frederic's alive and doing **quite** well for himself…**under** the King's supervision. The old man's been given **great** **power** – a power that makes your Paradise City look like **a useless child's plaything**… But that's **exactly** what it is – a **child's** toy."_

_I can't take this… I can't…**take this!**_

_"Darren…I…trusted you…" my eyes begin to water, feeling my heart shattering to pieces._

_Damien hears my weeping, and turns around in bed. His eyes open, concernedly beholding my mournful frame. My boy sits up and tries to comfort me… I gently hold onto his shoulder to quietly tell him, "remain silent", as the vindictive informant continues on._

_"I know, young man. I love you and care **deeply** about you, too. That's why I'm offering you the chance to work with me… **Forget** about uniting the races – it's a futile struggle, and you **know** it. **Forget** about Infinity, friends, lovers, let **everything** go…and come with me… But, I'm not a cruel man. I'll gladly let Damien come along with you, though I fear our patriarchs will have him **beheaded** **without hesitation**… Look at him, boy."_

_I look to Damien with teary eyes, listening to the clergyman's **poisonous** verbal devices._

_"…Isn't he **beautiful**, Stuart? Don't you just want to **jump** all over him like you did **a few hours ago**?"_

_"How did you…?"_

_"My phantoms tell me **everything**, Stuart – nothing left unsaid, nothing left **unseen**", why that perverted old bastard! He was eyeing us while we were in the midst of making love? "Try **seating** your lover during 'the standing position', boy. You're not a **young little spitfire** anymore, so **don't** **push** yourself. We gentleman have to lookout for each other, right? …_**_Or_**_, would you rather **me** come over there and **show** you how it's done, young man? I may be an old vampire, but I've **still** got the **gusto** to make your boy say **'oh'**."_

**_What_**_ did he just say to me?_

"Daddy, _who_ is that?" my boy tugs at my arm.

_"Sexy little number, isn't he?" laughs the old deviant._

_"Don't you **dare** lay a finger on him, Darren!" my anger's beginning to vividly surface, causing my right fist to illuminate with a gentle glow of sunlight. "You hear me? Don't you **dare** come near my boy,** you sick bastard!**"_

_"You think you can stop me at **your** power level, boy? I don't think so… You haven't even **noticed** it – one of my phantoms is watching you **right** now."_

_"**What** did you say…?" I gasp in shock._

_"Heads up, young man", I look up at the ceiling to see a small cloud of ectoplasm in the shape of a grieving face. It's been sitting there, watching us the entire time. "Five hours, young man… For five hours, I've watched you live a carnal fantasy. For several days, I've watched you **continuously** bring a **catastrophic** end to every campaign for domination that's crossed your path. You're party's defeated four of our operatives – slaying 2, arresting 1, and recruiting a young man that was like a **son** to me… I **hate** the thought of a warrant being put out in his name, but it can't be helped now. Father Hennigan's a wanted man, and the Church will **surely** pursue him next… But enough about the traitor, let's focus on **you**."_

_"I have **nothing** to say to you", my voice has become **hard** with a boiling fury._

_"You don't have to, boy…just listen for a spell… Now, tomorrow, I want you seated with our **wonderful** team of Smackdown color-commentators. It'll be competing in a qualifying match in the World Heavyweight Championship Tournament. Be there…and watch as I **destroy** the little 'bug' that would've lived a **glorious** life with the Church… So much talent, so much charisma – no **brain** whatsoever. He was doomed to **die** from the very beginning. **Hm!** Such a pity."_

**_Why that venomous old bastard!_**

_To think that he'd kill off a bright, charismatic and talented young man like Curtis… I won't have it! It'll be **a cold day in hell** before I let him get away with something **so bloody inhumane**!_

_"I'll be there, but I **won't** let you hurt him", the old man laughs at my bold declaration._

_"Really, young man? Step in anytime… I'll let you get in a few **good** hits before I **lay** you flat."_

_I put an end to our heated conversation with these final words, "That's **all** I'll need to be **done** with you, old man. Don't you worry about a thing, Darren. I **promise** to be there… **and I promise to take you out of your misery if you pull a single dirty trick, you senile piece of shit!**"_

**_I press the END button and furiously toss my mobile against the northern wall!_**

_The framing breaks, the battery's seal pops off, the power cell hits the ground, and the mobile's placed in an inoperative state. _

_Damien **jumps**, never seeing me lose my patience before. My phone won't work again until its put back together… This marks the first time that Damien's **ever** seen me behave in such a manner. I feel embarrassed, to say the least._

_However, like the good boy that he is, Damien tends to my emotional wounds._

"Daddy, who _was_ that? What did this person _say_ to make you _so angry_?"

_I cling to my fiancé, calling him to me with mournful arms._

_I'm crying… This has become a **nightmare** for me._

_Of all the people in this company, **why** did it have to be him? I've looked up to Darren as a father figure since I laced up my **first** pair of wrestling boots. It was **his** star-studded career that called me to the ring, not just my hunger for a more competitive sport… When I was a bareknuckle boxing champion, Darren was **well** on his way to the top. **He's won more than 60 titles worldwide…** My career **pales** in comparison to his. I've based my **entire** career on attempting to carry on the legacy of English world champions. However, when trying to live up to a man like him… I just can't…I…_

_I **really** don't think I can take this!_

"Daddy, what's wrong?" my boy allows me to rest my head on his lap.

_"I can't…talk right now…" my tears forbid me to speak._

"Okay, Daddy…take your time."

_The stray phantom smiles at my sadness, and silently evacuates our hotel room._

_Darren's a **strong** existence user…I can tell without standing **anywhere** near him. If I'm to rescue Curtis tomorrow, I better do a **damn** good job at it… Darren's known to be **very** cold-blooded in the face of an opponent. I fear that, **if** Johnny faces him – a man of such **strength** and fortitude…_

___…The poor fellow will fight his **last** match…**and breathe his last breath of life**.___

* * *

><p><em>Everyone gathers for an early breakfast around 8:00 AM.<em>

The emotions brewed from yesterday's events have settled… I've come to realize that vampires are _just_ as emotional as _any_ normal man. Natalie's _the leading lady_ of our group, and I'm _well aware_ that her heart's been broken _on several counts_… She's been _forced_ to battle against the man that she once called _"lover"_, _"protector"_, _"darling"_, _"husband"_, and _"my king"_. I haven't come across _a single woman_ who can stand tall…_and **proudly** bear the level of torment hidden behind her lovely smile_.

_Still, Natalie's moved on to better things…**and** a better man. He's a younger man – **much** younger than her ex-husband, but **more** of a man than King Henry could **ever** be. Nattie doesn't realize how **proud** I am for her. Don't tattle on me with this… But, well…I've grown to **admire** the dame._

_The same goes for my **favorite** ginger boy…_

_…Stephen's a witty fellow with a heart of gold – that describes him to a tee. He's a foul-mouthed, vulgar, and satirical old bastard… But his motives are **always** just. Stephen escaped the tyrannical stigmas of the Church centuries ago, renounced his ranks as a clergyman…and **never** looked back. Though he's **still** a holy man, due to his theological and historical knowledge, Stephen wishes to be addressed **without** the usage of the term "Father". _

_Father Yuvraj and Brother Theodore are considered our team's "youngbloods"._

_Just like Stephen, Yuvraj was once a clergyman – a job that he despised for **personal** reasons… The Church **stole** him from his village, **slaughtered** his family, **tortured** his friends to **death**, **destroyed his entire world**…when he was only a little pup. In order to exact his revenge, the Punjabi-Canadian pup **took** **advantage** of King Henry's training program. On his 21st birthday, he graduated from King Henry's **"Aldington School of Supernatural Warfare"**…and **killed** the bloodthirsty, prejudice students that he grew up with in the Church. Since Day 1, the student that fell to Clockwork Orange's power tormented him for being different, and he became fed up with their finger-pointing. The act set King Henry in a state of fearful shock…and Raj attacked the King in the name of the fallen; however, his conscience forbid him to take the terrorist's life… The rebellious nightwalker left King Henry with near-fatal injuries, smote him with cruel words, and departed from the King with a promise… To claim the heads of **all** those responsible for the demise of his hometown, Vanilli._

_Brother Theodore, on the other hand, was **forced** to be one of Count Valdo's "house boys"… At an early age, Theodore was abused and tormented by the notorious Count for a **nightmarish** 7 years. Natalie rescued Theodore, along with the other house boys, during her retiring field mission. The beautiful vampiress saw **something** **special** in the young puppy's handsome eyes… Natalie trained him in the Supernatural Arts to the best of her knowledge, and Theodore graduated in less than a decade. It was around this time that he was paired with the daring Brother Luis Urive, who's now one of Infinity's top field agents. Together, for over 70 years, the two berserkers worked together as a **powerhouse** **duet** called **"Rocky Hurricane"**. In 1989, Theodore retired from the field and worked his way to the top executive position of Infinity's Youth Ministry, where he counsels young men and women who've gone through similar trials. Brother Theodore's recognized as Infinity's **"most loving radical"**. I can honestly say that I **understand** Natalie's reasons for falling in love with him._

_We're to meet here with John, who's just passed his examinations and will now begin his field training._

_John, despite his entrancing looks and confident appearance, is a man who's **successfully** **conquered** the Church's **ugly** fabrications about humanity… He feared Pope Leonard for **several** unsaid reasons. John's an enigma that we've yet to figure out, for his motives are veiled with uncertainty. He's a very shy vampire, adorably timid at times, but his supernatural muscle's just as **terrifying** as the next nightwalker… I nearly lost my life to him, but the **entire** time…I could feel his heart **breaking**. John's relationship with my boy's so concrete and stable, that he conceded without **any** struggle._

_It's **hard** for a man to let go of the past … But it's **even harder** for him to let go of **a** **good** **thing**. John's emotionally dependent on Damien, for it was my boy's kindness that assisted him during his mental and emotional weaning process. It's my boy who he wishes to be the godfather of his son, the best man at his wedding, and the shoulder that he can lean on when apart from his lovely lady… If it weren't for my boy, John would **still** be buried under the cruel lies of the Church._

_Out of everyone, Sweets' a little brother figure to JoMo…and I'm BFFs with Steve. Nattie and TJ are our roadies and close companions. Raj is a father figure in my eyes, and a **very** good one at that. Steve and Nattie are old comrades and the best of friends. My favorite ginger boy is my fiancé's joking buddy. TJ considers us "his brothers", and shows it with a casual smile. Nattie looks to us like her children, and the old gal's an **excellent** mother figure to my boy. In other words – we care about each other **deeply**, and **that's** why we've engaged in this globetrotting quest of horrors…as a **small**, yet quaint little family of 7._

**_"Eww…"_**_ my boy sees something on the menu that causes him to lose his appetite._

"What is it, love?" he shows me a section of the menu that's _loaded_ with human-manufactured delicacies. **_Ugh!_**_ Oh god, I think I'm going to be **sick**!_ _"Stewed **Lady** **Fingers**? The **'Blondie'** **salad**? **Southern Fried Rib Cage Surprise?** …Shoot me, please."_

_"Looks like this café's still under the Church's jurisdiction", Natalie notices a small printing of the Scarlet Lunar Cross at the bottom-right corner of the menu. She folds the list of culinary options shut, places it on the table, and displays charismatic professionalism. "Let's not make a scene, boys. The Church **may** have jurisdiction on this place, but the people working here **aren't** clergyman… They'll cater to them, but they're **not** one of them."_

"How do you figure that, Nattie?"

_"These people aren't wearing a **'Scharlach Mondkreuz'** pendant", she shows me the emblem on the bottom-right of the menu. I look at my copy, seeing the same thing, as she begins clearly explaining the information she's gathered from Father Andrew. "Drew told me about this… **The Scharlach Mondkreuz** – the new title for the 'Scarlet Lunar Cross' emblem – has been modified in response to Sister Mary Victoria's arrest. The Gideonites are **furious**. The reason for such anger: **every Gideonite's been laid off due to wage cuts**."_

**_Wage cuts? They lost their jobs…because of that?_**

_"The vestal was in charge of payments, so her absence has roused the protests of **thousands** of Gideonite personnel", TJ grasps our attention with the knowledge he's gather from an update he's just received through mobile E-mail. "They've changed the name of the Church's pendant to better suit their angered ambitions. The vestal was reported to have **'childishly'** reacted to the assassination of Lord Geschonneck…**and** the death of her lover, Brother Terrence Trent D'Arby – according to Reporter J.D. Jackson."_

_Damien's heart sinks with overwhelming surprise._

_"D'Arby? You mean…**him?**"_

"Yes, Damien…the man that I _killed_ to save your life", Raj's surfacing guilt closes his eyes, and lowers his head. The radical feels as if his actions somehow helped to spawn such a reaction. He opens his eyes and apologizes for his past endeavors. _"Forgive me, my friends… I didn't foresee the harsh consequences of my reckless actions. I place myself before your mercies."_

"You don't have to apologize for _anything_, Raj", my warm voice lessens the _thickness_ of his guilt. He looks at me with a forlorn profile, beholding my welcoming grin. "What you did was a _righteous_ act. What that _nun_ did was _another_ _sad case of bad form_. You're _not_ the guilty party in this… _If anything_, the Gideonites should be angry with _her_ for being so reckless. Drew told me _everything_ just an hour ago."

_"How did your chitchat with the old fossil go, Stu?" noses my favorite ginger bud._

_I bury my chin in the cup of my hands, resting my elbows on the table. I verbally convey the information I've learned with **disgusted** delivery… My words are **harsh** and straightforward._

"Surprise after _bleeding_ surprise, of course. Drew took the liberty of revealing _'her public identity'_ to me. The incarcerated nun's actually _Victoria Crawford_, one of our prized Divas. _I had no idea…_ Her father's a bonified and _proud_ Englishman. _That_ _explains a lot_ _– the origins of her womanly character and distinguished tastes…_ _Sadly_, her father's lessons have _failed_ to give her _any_ kind of justice. _Honestly! What an **insufferable** broad – rampaging through a public facility like **a livid hellcat**_. I expected _better_ from her… She's done _more_ than disappoint her family… _She's painted a **bad** picture for a lot of **good** ethnic Englishwomen_."

_Right on cue, John enters through the diner's entrance._

"Sorry for being late, guys", he joins us, sitting next to my boy on our side of the dining table.

_"How was the trip, John Boy?"_

"Quiet and boring", he smiles, before placing a manila folder on the table.

_"What do we have here, JoMo?" noses the curious Irishman._

"Copies of the ultrasound. Mel scanned them to me yesterday."

_"**Aww**…we want to see the little button, Johnny", Nattie and Sweets' adoration for babies shines vibrantly. They hold out their hands, begging like a duo of cooing mothers. John humors them, allowing the BFFs to gaze upon the technologically enhanced adorableness. "**Aww**…look at his little feet! **He's so cute!**"_

_They're gushing in **unison**…? Where's a camera when you need one?_

"Daddy, take a gander at him", Damien shows me the ultrasound, and I'm instantly _marveled_ by how _cute_ Mel's fetus is. An approving smirk decorates my face. _"Isn't he a **cute** little kisser? I bet he's going to the **spitting** image of his **pretty** mummy and **handsome** papa."_

_"Let's just **pray** the boy gets **most** of his looks from Mel._

_"And **why** are you saying that, Stu?" John's face becomes offensively solid._

_"Because it'd be **frigging tragic** if the babe popped out looking like **a glamorous billy goat**", ends Stephen, speaking in accord with my thoughts. John shoots the Irish nightwalker a burning-eyed stare, making the two of us **burst** into laughter. "Relax yourself, old boy! We're just pulling your chain, that's all."_

"Yes, loosen up, _John Boy_. Join the fun, will you?"

**_That_**_ was an invitation to embarrassment… John's about to call us out._

_"Okay, since you want to 'have some fun'…"_

"Uh-oh", snickers Damien.

_"…Tell me, **Stuey**. How **high** can you moan? **Two** octaves above soprano or just **one**?"_

Everyone humoredly freezes up, _realizing_ what he's talking about.

**_"U~H, sss…mmm! Pr-r-r-r-r-r-reach to me, boy, pr-r-r-r-r-r-reach…!"_**_ we burst into laughter at his high-pitched exaggeration. The hilarious sex faces that he makes...it's…it's downright… **Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I can't take it – I just can't, I tell you!** John moves on to Stephen, who **also** took the liberty of picking fun at his offspring. "Oh, don't **even** think about getting off the bill – **with your oversexed pillow talk**."_

"Oh Lord…" huffs TJ in his belly-holding laughter.

**_"Zzzzz! Them pantyhose smell good, lassie! Zzzzz!"_**_ he mocks sleeping with an open-mouthed snore, sounding **just** like the scruffy-faced ginger. **"Zzzzz! Dry condoms! Zzzzz!"**_

_"I didn't say that, ya prick!" chuckles the rolling Irishman._

**_"Zzzzz! Don't care! Zzzzz!"_**_ John can't take it either, joining in on the laughter._

_And then, a **ghostly** wind breezes past our table, bringing a **foul** end to our happy little moment._

_"Did…you guys just feel that?"_

_"We sure did, Stu", Stephen confirms, as our group develops **intensely** solemn facial expressions._

_Darren enters the diner, sitting three tables away from us… He looks at the menu, taking a little time to thoroughly browse the Church-sponsored section of human-manufactured delicacies. He eyes are group, shooting a burning-eyed grin at the lot of us._

_"Daddy…was it **him**?" I nod to my boy, confirming his suspicions._

_"Yes, love…**He's** the one who got me **all worked up** last night."_

_"It's true, Damien…but he's not just **any** **ordinary** clergyman", Stephen remembers the grim memories of my Great-grandfather's sabotaged wedding. He recalls seeing **Darren's** face under that hood – the hood of the **dreaded** Chanter of Elegies. "**He's** the guy responsible for ruining Old Fred's wedding with Lady Mari. Fred took him out with one blow, and that old fossil's **itching** to get some revenge."_

_"You mean he's…?"_

_"That's right, DC… good old Darren's really **White Album** –the main antagonist of the '**unfinished Romance of the Tainted Rose**'… Legends **also** revere him as **'the Oppressor of the Passion'**. Darren may look like a distinguished gentleman, but Old Fred and I **know** – **first-hand** – how much of a sick bastard he **really** is."_

_"Are you children **gossiping** about little ole me?" we're frozen in shock, hearing Darren's voice sounding **directly** next to our table. We look at the sight of the infamous clergyman standing proudly above my boy's head. Damien's face is **filled** with trepidation, feeling the intensity of the seasoned vampire's supernatural muscle. Darren looks down to Damien and pets his little head with a gentle right hand. "Oh, come, come now… There's no need to be scared, Damien. I wouldn't **dream** of harming a single hair on your **precious** little head."_

_Damien clings to my right arm, feeling mentally overpowered by Darren's indirect vindictiveness._

_The venomous Church informant looks to Natalie with a delighted smile._

_"**Ah**, look who we have here!" Natalie's head inches down to a terrifying burning-eyed ogle. The cool-headed clergyman is tickled by the beautiful vampiress's bitter odium. "**Ha!** Don't give me that look, little missy… Wild Orchid's flames will kill **every** **single** innocent person in this **fine** establishment. The act would bring **many** **tragic** **detriments** to your **meaningless** cause… Having **arson** and **aggravated** **assault** on your criminal record would **surely** tarnish your coalition's spotless reputation."_

_"What are you doing here, Father Christian?" sternly questions the former queen. "Don't you have a **rock** to go crawl under? **Or**, do you have any **valid** reasons for bothering us this morning?"_

_"I just came here to check up on the Church's **favorite** little fledgling", the wicked father looks down to me with a vindictive leer. His toxic gaze burns a hole of revulsion into my heart. "Do you remember 'our little agreement', young man? The one we made last night?"_

_"…I've a **good** memory at my disposal, thank you very much", my voice roughens with a resentful hiss._

_"Try not to disappoint me, young man. The rookie's life depends on it."_

_The clergyman's poisonous eyes notice the exposed copies of Baby James's ultrasound on the table._

_He humors himself by taking a close gander at them, holding the copies in his right hand. A cold and disapproving expression decorates his ageless profile… He adds a seething touch of disrespect to the occasion by **balling** the copies in the soon-to-be father's face. John chokes on his words, trying his very best not to remain calm… His existence is **far too dangerous **to be activated in such **tight** parameters._

_"You've disgraced yourself, **boy**", the clergyman tosses the copies onto the table, making John gag on indignation's **bitter** flavor. Darren laughs at the sight of the former clergyman's resentment. "I've grown bored with the lot of you…**especially** our little murderer."_

_The legendary antagonist shoots Raj a venomous ogle… The cool-headed chronokinetic radical remains calm in the face of his persecutor._

_"Father Yuvraj, are you aware that **your** actions caused **our** Gideonite Embassy to suffer a **great** deal?"_

_"When I care, you'll be the first to know", Raj's righteous egotism's reached an all-time high._

_"**My!** That was a **very** **handsome** display of insolence on your part, old boy…" Darren's toxic laughter mocks us with every fleeting breath he takes. "…Riddle me this: What do you get when **7 little rats** are confined inside of **1hungry serpent's lair**?"_

_We remain silent, refusing to humor his ridiculous riddles._

_He laughs at our wordless irreverence, and gives us a disturbing answer, "…The answer is: 12:00 AM tomorrow the Gordon J. Willington Cemetery. Be there, or I'll come **looking** for you… And trust me – when my orders are disobeyed, innocent people tend to get…**severely injured**."_

_He leaves our group with a **freezing** chill of intimidation circulating through the air._

_His venomous laughter fades with every departing step he takes… I've **never** known the Doppler effect to sound so…menacing and evil. He plans on killing us **all** at once… And he' s chosen a very **dreadful** site to carry out his wicked endeavors._

_The witching hour of Willington Cemetery is infamously revered as "the **spookiest** scene in the entire town". It makes sense – an infamous necromancer using a cemetery to do his dirty work… However, the fear soon leaves our hearts. We've **already** dealt with something like this during our last encounter with the Church._

_Father Jorge used the same dark art to raise Copa Cabana from the dead… But, Darren's **no** **ordinary** sorcerer. He's a legendary figure, and we're **sure** to have trouble dealing with the likes of him._

_Still…are we really ready to face someone with **that** kind of supernatural muscle?_

* * *

><p>"The moon's already in the sky", Grandpa Christopher's contemplating on personally revealing himself to us. Natalie and Stephen already know <em>'the man behind the black hat'<em>, but the rest of us have _yet_ to find out the truth. My grandfather takes off his hat by its round brim, revealing his gentle blue eyes. The night air graces his silky brunette mane, as a foreboding vision crosses his path. _"…Someone's going to die tonight. May God have **mercy** on the one responsible for the crime… My Sticky Finger's hands…are **mighty** **itchy** at the moment."_

The old timer looks down from the rooftops of _the_ _J.P. McCartney Sports Center_, beholding the arrival of our party's separate vehicles… A smile decorates my grandfather's face, as he watches us carrying our luggage towards the building's entrance.

My grandfather places his black hat back on his handsome head, as my existence brings me to a halt.

_Paradise City tells me to look at the rooftop…_

…I can see the small image of my grandfather staring down at me. _Funny…he **kind of **looks like the Undertaker from my current view point._

"Nattie, is _that_ who I _think_ it is?" my party comes a halt, gazing up at the epic image of the mysterious nightwalker. _"That man… Who is that?"_

_"**Oh**, that's your grandpa", smiles the beautiful founder._

"_Why_ does he remind me of Mark?"

_"That's not Calaway, fella" corrects my Irish bud. Stephen waves to my grandfather, receiving a wave in response. Grandfather Christopher departs from the rooftop, going to get prepared for tonight's live recording. "I bet you **anything**, Stu…"_

The ginger's challenging words grasp my attention.

_"…You're going to **freak out** when you find out **who** the old man **really** is", everyone follows the departing Irishman into the stadium._

_I pause for a few short moments._

_It's odd… If my grandfather's **not** **Mark**, then **who** could he possibly be?_

_If the old man's showing himself to me now, then I'm bound to run into him tonight… I can't wait to meet him, **regardless** of who he is. I just want to hold the old man…as his grandson. I **love** my grandfather, and I hope that he loves me back._

_On the other hand, I'm not competing tonight, but I **have** to be at ringside with the Smackdown color-commentators… Darren's **sure** to stir up trouble if he successfully exacts his **sick** motives. **Everyone's** in danger – personnel, fans, and even our homes viewers… No one's safe anymore._

_What will happen when the cameras begin rolling?_

_Will the night go smoothly? Or…will the WWE Universe have their eyes opened to the **harsh** truth?_

_I fear that this evening's events…will **negatively** change the face of our company. **Permanently**._

__The battle to end the bloodshed continues…__

* * *

><p><strong><em><em>(Ending Theme – "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>_**

* * *

><p><strong><em><em>(Up Next: Chapter 10 – Dead Presidents)<em>_**


	11. Chapter 10: Dead Presidents

_**BLOOD/Night**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>[Warning from the Author: This chapter is filled with a little MM action, but not as graphically detailed as the last chapter. The including of such a scene is very vital to the storyline, especilally since it introduces us to two more villains. It's juicy, that's all I've got to say. lol. View under your discretion and enjoy the rest of the story. Thank you :)]**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Opening Theme – "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 10 – <strong>**Dead Presidents**_

* * *

><p><em>The Moldavian night skies are animated with the evening's eternal melody. The silver moon's diamond glow illuminates the vast countryside, painting a penumbral picture across the land. In the distance, Chateau de Nocturnus stands as a monumental giant… It's very image curses the night with an ominous shadow. <em>

_Inside of the colossal giant, the infamous Lord enters his chambers, awaiting the arrival of an honored guest… Count Valdo's tall structure takes form, revealing a brutish…yet __**beautiful**__ image of darkness._

"_Thaddeus!_ How _long_ must I _anticipate_ your arrival?"

"_Forgive my tardiness", a foreboding figure, shrouded in humility, appears before the master vampire at his rear. His penumbra is kissed with the gentle glow of blood-scented candles. "Count Valdo, it's an honor."_

"_Kneel_", gently commands the dark lord.

_The humble ecclesiast prostrates himself before his lord. The gentle light reveals the threading of his holy garments. His lord steps forward into the penumbra before his balcony's __**glorious**__ countryside view. The legendary count, humored by the holy man's obedience, commences their scheduled meeting._

"_Why_ have you come here, boy?" questions the being of darkness.

"_The fledgling Crusnik…he has __**yet**__ to be exterminated. I beg of you, please, forgive our failures, your lordship… We're rather young and inexperienced, compared to your __**masterful**__ craft."_

Thaddeus's negative reportrouses the vampire lord's disapproval… But, his anger remains concealed behind a foreboding silence. The humbled ecclesiast remains prostrated on his right knee, _hoping_ to receive a non-violent reaction from his Lord.

_The legendary count turns on his heel, revealing his gloomy frontward profile. Thaddeus chokes on the bitter flavors of intimidation… Smelling the archbishop's humiliation and fear, the dark lord dismisses the negative report with light conversation. _

"Thaddeus, how _long_ has it been since I resurrected you?"

"_2 centuries, my lord", the ecclesiast's humble tone tickles the master vampire with delight._

"200 years of servitude, and you've _yet_ to disappoint me… Thaddeus, _you_ weren't the one who failed me. _It was those __**useless**__ clergymen that disgraced themselves with defeat, not you._ Fear _not_, Thaddeus…you're _always_ _welcome_ in my chambers during _'feeding time'_… But, I ask that you _save_ the trivial reports for the _other_ patriarchs. I don't have _time_ for _meaningless_ political hearsay and _useless_ grievances."

"_Forgive my ignorance, your lordship", the archbishop hears the echo of his Lord's snapping fingers. The faceless ecclesiast opens his eyes, witnessing the forthcoming of a loyal chambermaid. "Well, what do we have here? Is this one of our __**delicious**__ Gideonite followers?"_

_The beautiful young maiden approaches her Lord's __**motionless**__ portrait of obscurity._

_The immortal lord gently takes the maiden's extending right hand, guiding her into the darkness of his all-consuming umbra… Count Valdo lovingly embraces her, allowing the young girl to enjoy the pleasure of his strong, dark and beautifully built frame._

"_Life_…what is its purpose?" enigmatically begins the dark lord, as the beautiful maiden looks up into his warm eyes…_entranced_ by his gentle smile. "This lovely young girl's honored me by _giving up her life_ to my cause… Such adoration makes an old soul like mine feel…_significant_."

"_I love you, Lord Valdo!" the beautiful girl declares her affections for the master vampire._

"You love me, dear?"

"_Take me, my lord…I'm yours…I'm yours…" the beautiful maiden presses her lips against his cold skin, showing the intensity of her adoration. "I wish to be your queen, my lord…I love you…I worship you…"_

"I know, my dear…I know", the count's eyes _blaze_ _with carnivorous bloodlust_. The archbishop respects his lord by turning his head away from the act…as Count Valdo _buries_ his fangs in the chambermaid's right sternomastoid. The infamous master vampire _passionately savors_ the taste of a virgin's lifeblood, reducing her to excited breaths of discomfort. The count pulls his canines out of the maiden's neck, leaving his renowned bite mark on her neckline. "I'll share this child with you, Thaddeus… Consider it _restitution_ for a _graceful_ 200 years of service. I _would_ give you more, but our _local_ supply…_isn't_ very plentiful."

"…_Thank you, my lord. I'm actually…pretty famished right now."_

"Then, enjoy yourself…she's yours to keep, young man", the generous count allows his loyal servant to take the beautiful chambermaid into his arms. The lovely girl's fingers softly venture the archbishop's silky mane, examining the _majesty_ of his burlesque frame. "Isn't she the _most beautiful_ _creature_ you've _ever_ laid eyes on?"

"…_Yes, my lord."_

"Do you want her?"

"…_Yes, my lord", the archbishop's eyes __**burn**__ with excitement, his breathing becoming heavier by the second._

"_Is she __**just**__ as exquisite as your lovely wife? Or…__**is her beauty much more alluring in your eyes**__?"_

"_Much…__**much more**__!" the archbishop fiercely buries his fangs into the chambermaid's left sternomastoid. The young lady's scream lights the night sky with __**sickening**__ pleasure. The carnivorous ecclesiast drops the lifeless maiden's to the ground, licking her lifeblood from his tainted jaws. His smile fills his lord with delight, as the beautiful maiden's body slowly begins to decompose. "…She…tasted…so sweet, your lordship. You've __**always**__ had the most refined taste in women."_

_Count Valdo approaches his delighted archbishop…and kisses the handsome ecclesiast's forehead._

_Thaddeus looks into his lord's eyes, as the tall figure of darkness embraces his loyal servant. The archbishop recognizes his lord's affections, and humbly returns the count's embrace._

"If the world were to end during this cataclysmic era of hostilities, I would _gladly_ watch it fall…at your side", the count's gentle tongue strikes a bolt of emotion in the faceless ecclesiast's heart. "Stay here for the night, boy. I shall order a short vacation for you… You need some time away from your daily commitments."

"_But, your lordship…I… Why do such a thing?"_

"Don't be coy, Thaddeus…" the dark lord's lips meet with the bite mark on the archbishop's upper neck. Thaddeus is struck with arousal, as the Count forcefully rips the top of the ecclesiast's robes. His bronze cheeks flush with sheepish humiliation…his breathing excites with lascivious rhythm. _"…Remind me, boy. How long has it been…__**since we've joined in a sinful bed of desire**__?"_

"_Two months…your lordship", the humiliated archbishop is lifted off his feet by the hips, holding onto his lord's shoulders for a sensual ride. Thaddeus is carried to the count's bed, where he's dropped onto its soft pillow top mattress… The handsome ecclesiast has grown to adore his lord's aggressive nature with time, slowly being pulled from his human wife's embrace – a sin that he's slowly being forgiven for. "…Lord Valdo…I… I'm not sure if we should keep doing this. It…it isn't right…it's…"_

"You're beside yourself with guilt, Thaddeus", the count relieves himself of his designer jacket, revealing the herculean build of his body. He unbuttons his dress shirt starting with his cufflinks, moving to his top button…and _teasingly_ unfastens his frontward line. Thaddeus's cold skin flushes with untamed excitement, his breathing becoming audible with every passing second. "What's wrong, boy? Aren't you _used_ to this by now?"

"_My lord…" the archbishop curiously runs his strong hands up the count's polished abdominals. Count Valdo tosses his dress shirt onto the chamber's stone-tiled floors, and poisonously mounts his hips in between the beautiful ecclesiast's legs. The mythical creature of darkness holds himself above Thaddeus's body like a hungry panther, ravenously gazing into the cerulean oceans his lover's eyes. "…Count Valdo…please…I…I love her. Is it truly so wrong…to love someone…regardless of their breed?"_

"…_Kiss me, boy", Count Valdo's ravenous tone magnetically joins their lips._

The master vampire's _sinful_ _punishment_ relieves the archbishop of his wariness. Thaddeus closes his eyes, emotionally ensnared by his lord's venomous kiss… The ecclesiast's hands gently brush against the count's strong back muscles… The dark lord's claimed his boy, refusing to allow Thaddeus's marriage to ruin this night of sin.

"_Let me join with you, boy", the archbishop's eyes widen at the sound of such an advance._

"_Count Valdo…" he is silenced with a few pecks to his bite mark, being taken over by an immense bolt of pleasure. The count's toxic kiss renders him unable to continue resisting… Thaddeus surrenders to the intensity of his overwhelming desires. "…Take me, my lord. I want you inside of me, now!"_

"_You want me?"_

"_Yes…" the count gently relieves the archbishop of his lower robing. The master vampire crawls out of bed, completely undressing his lover… The robes hit the stone-tiled floors, revealing the entirety of the ecclesiast's naked frame. Thaddeus's beautifully sculpted frame excites the count's sexual impulses. Thaddeus's heartbeat becomes rough with excitement, as the count allows his trousers to hit the ground. Count Valdo's burning glare sends the archbishop into a state of submission. "…I've forgotten…how well-endowed you are."_

"_And I __**haven't**__ forgotten how…__**deliciously**__**sculpted**__ you are, boy", the count steps out of his dress shoes and remounts the gap of his lover's opened legs._

_The count poisonously gazes into the ecclesiast's eyes, as he leans forward to taste the lining of his lover's bite marks. The right side of Thaddeus's strong neck __**burns**__ with a sensual flame. His strong whisper fills the handsome receiver with a lethal dosage of seduction._

"_Life and death aren't meant to be one. You should know that better than __**anyone**__ in the Church, boy… Let my affections __**liberate**__ you, Mr. Beatles…__**from that vile jezebel's sinful charms**__."_

"…_Yes…your lordship", with those words, the devilish deal is complete._

_The daunting aggressor takes his willing receiver with a gentle kiss. Within the darkness of the count's bedchamber, the ecclesiast feels the penetration of his lord's rod into his exposed sexual entrance… Thaddeus's eyes widen with intense pleasure, his hands grasping roughly on his lord's strong shoulders._

"_Thaddeus…slow and rough, or fast and light?"_

"…_It…doesn't matter", the archbishops submission sets the count's urges aflame._

"_Very well…" the count's poisonous hiss tickles at Thaddeus's sex drive._

"_Uh…" whines the archbishop, as the sinful ride commences._

_Count Valdo's repeated thrusts are more mesmerizing than an excess amount of morphine._

_The night is lit with the ecclesiast's sheepish sexual moans._

_Thaddeus has given up his love to his lord's ravenous embrace, and his human mate will probably __**never**__ see him again. Those who've been lucky enough to be considered as the count's lover have __**never**__ found another like him… He considers himself "a distinguished gentleman" before acknowledging his flamboyant title of "King of the Night"… And, a gentleman __**always**__ pleases his lover to the upmost of his abilities._

_The nightwalker that he resurrected from the dead, Thaddeus Elmer Beatles, is his current lover. That's right – the vampire that my Great-grandfather __**slew**__ in order to save his future wife, Lady Maribel… He's been brought back to life by the master of __**all**__ nightwalkers, Count Valdo von Dracula, and has been given one of the highest ecclesiastic roles in the Church. As the newest archbishop, Thaddeus's current duty is to get rid of my boy, but he has __**yet**__ to complete his task… __**Several**__ "interferences" forbid any positive results._

_In the count's current mental state, however…assassination is the __**last**__ thing on his mind._

* * *

><p><em>The J.P. McCartney Sports Center is packed to the limit.<em>

There's not a _single_ seat in the area that's unfilled – every corner's occupied by an energized soul… A record-breaking number of 33, 298 tickets were sold at Willington's Lennon Shopping Center. Every person performing tonight is _completely stoked_. We can't _wait_ to get out there and entertain the mass of WWE loyalists…

_…Well, I can't speak for everyone._

My friendship circle's _well aware_ of what could happen tonight.

_Darren's motives have placed **every single person** in attendance in **grave** danger. If he successfully kills Curtis…he'll **most definitely** attack everyone else in the arena. It scares me – imagining **everyone** being subjected to his nightmarish bloodlust…_

_…I **can't** let that bastard have his way!_

_My fists are **itching** to dig a hole in his **rotten** **jaws**… Sitting here in this godforsaken locker room, I'm reminded of my earlier ventures in the WWE. Most of them consisting of a lackluster tragedy. **None** of them were regrettably subsisted, though their lifespans were **very** short-termed. I'd gladly relive them all, if the aftermath of the events weren't as **horrifically** blood-tainted as they are now._

_A gentle knock comes from my locker room door._

_"Come in", the door's opened._

_It's my boy… He's come to check up on me._

"Stuey, are you ready?" he sits next to me at my left, sporting his trademark picturesque smile.

_"…No, I'm not", my voice is low with apprehension._

"Let's try not to look so gloomy, dear", I look into my boy's honey-colored eyes with an uncertain profile. Damien stands up and lovingly massages my shoulders. His firm grip _mesmerizes_ me with physical relief. "_Everyone's_ nervous, dear. WWE personnel's unaware of the recently transpired events… But management's _still_ concerned about the Usos, Alicia Fox, and Hunico's unexplained disappearances. Authorities are currently engaged in a mass investigation, labeling these disappearances as 'abductions'."

_"Abductions, you say?"_

"_Regardless_ of what 'the Good Book' says, humans lives by _sight_ and lack _any_ sense of faith. I know I sound like a _sociopath_ for saying that, but it's true… Humans, especially those in the judicial system, find it _easier_ to release things halfway. I should know. I studied law for a year."

_I giggle in amusement, "How did that go, love?"_

"Terrible. My dean was a _pervert_, my professors were a bunch of _sexual deviants_, and the staff consisted of a bunch of _unappeasable cougars_ and _uncouth daddies_… I was constantly the object of every law student's fantasies, and I hadn't a _single_ moment's time to rest. I switched my major to Business Management after my first semester. I _refused_ to put up with the _constant_ provocations of those _sex-starved idiots_ for another second."

_Goodness! Looks like his college career was **jam-packed **with intriguing events._

_I can't blame them, though… If they fancied my boy as much as they did, then they were obviously men and women with **exceptional** tastes. Look at him – a striking image of masculine Nubian beauty. Damien has no **idea** how many people he has in **awe** of his physical appearance… His intellect and professionalism is without comparison, but the **entire** locker room's **never** seen a more **stunning** male creature._

"Like what you see, Stuey?" his innocent, yet flirtatious question tickles me.

_"Everyone does, dear… Not just me."_

"Yes, but _you're_ the only one who can have me", Damien kisses my forehead. I humor him by playfully barking like a big dog. Someone clears their throat from the front door. I look forward to see an old onscreen rival of mine. Damien's delighted by his presence. "Well, good evening, Mr. Cena!"

_The snickering Boston native makes his way into my locker room._

_"Same to you, DC", Cena looks at me with humored expression._

"What are _you_ staring at, Cena?"

_"You tell me, **Scooby-Doo**", the brute's dry humor tickles my boy._

"JC, be nice will you? _Proper_ gentlemen aren't supposed to pick at each other like schoolgirls."

_"Oh come now, love… Cena's the 'most improper' person in the entire locker room", my verbal gunfire strikes the burlesque bulldog with a humored hoot. I fold my arms, awaiting his meager response. "Go ahead, John… Don't you have something clever to say in your defense?"_

_For the first time, Cena becomes righteously serious with me._

_"Drew didn't tell you, huh?" his question strikes us with confusion. John humors us by turning around and lifting up the back of his shirt…revealing a small tattoo on his upper back. Our eyes widen in shock! "This is the hidden symbol branded to the backs of **all** Methuselahs via laser light technology… Infinity's prized emblem – a bird of fire before a shining crucifix, universally known as the **'Goldener Phönixkreuz'**."_

_"Cena, **you're**…a Methuselah?"_

John lowers his shirt and faces us with a proud smile, "Allow me to _reintroduce_ myself… _Methuselah Z-7918 – John Felix Anthony Cena_; Class: _Enforcer_; Codename:_ Ace the Iron-hearted_. Sorry to break this to you, Stu… But, it looks like I'm on your side, bro."

Cena's cocky grin animates his entire face with sardonic delight.

_God! Just when I thought that things couldn't get **any** more peculiar…**this** happens._

"Drew never told us anything else about there being _more_ Methuselahs", my fiancé seems to be intrigued by the company's cover boy being a Methuselah in disguise. "So, what's your existence like, Jojo?"

_"Just like my codename implies, I'm 'a man of steel'. I can control every known mineral within a 950 bm expansion area. I can even cover my entire body with **highly** tempered Alloy 1090 carbon steel."_

"Like Dural from Virtua Fighter?"

_"Even better – I could give the Hulk a run for his money", John entertains my boy's juvenile admirations with a few moments of gloating… I patiently sit there and enjoy the moron's self-absorbed circus performance. John notices my bored body language, and sarcastically addresses it. "What's the matter, Bennett? **Jealous?**"_

_"No…just wondering when you're going to be through with this."_

_"When I say so, that's when", his rude tongue lifts me to my feet with furious ire. My anger brings me **inches** away from ramming my fist into his gritty chops. "What? …Those bloodsuckers got you in **that** much of a bad mood, **Stuey**?"_

_I guess the cock-mouthed bastard's got a point._

I retreat my angered fist, patiently returning to my recliner's comfy cushion.

_"I'm **sure** you've got your reasons for being here, Cena… Out with it."_

"Yes, Jojo, what brings you here?" my boy's curiosity triggers Cena's A.I. memory unit.

_John humbly gives us his report._

"The Barcelona Branch has dispatched my team, _the Lost Boyz_, due to the Highwaymen's encounter with Vickie", my boy's bothered by such a report. "Don't worry, they're all right. A few _minor circuitry problems_ aren't enough to keep those guys out of action for long. That wacko nun's Material Girl was pretty powerful, but _not_ _strong_ _enough_ to break Drew's technological expertise."

"Oh, thank goodness", my boy releases a sigh of relief.

_"Any news about the Usos?"_

_"Negative –the desired information is inaccessible", humbly responds the unveiled Methuselah._

_"Roger that, **T-800**."_

_John snickers like a cobra, tilting the brim of his baseball cap, "**Hm! **I'll take that as a compliment. Besides, at least I'm being compared to a fictional **badass**."_

_John's A.I. is suddenly **disturbed** by high frequency readings of negative spectral waves._

_The big man from Mass looks over his right shoulder, mechanically reacting to his HUD sensory._

"Jojo, what's wrong?" Cena turns on his heel, his HUD detecting a low level life form within 2.098 seconds of my locker room's entrance. Damien walks up to his old friend, curiously looking upon the cover boy's solemn profile. "...I don't think I've _ever_ seen you look like _that_, Jojo."

_"My EAM's been activated… Someone's prying in on our conversation."_

_"EAM? What's that, Jojo?"_

_John looks down to his curious little chum with a warm smile, "It's my 'emergency access memory'. All Methuselahs are built with a special sensory chip containing this program. Father Andrew can tell you more about it… Now, if the person **hiding** **behind** **the** **wall** would grow some **nuts** and **come** **out**…I'll deactivate my EAM and I won't have to **haul off** on him like a madman."_

The person behind the wall _cowardly_ _scampers away_, but the brutish Methuselah's EAM _excites_.

_John's A.I. switches to "seizure mode", and the big man takes off at humanly incapable haste!_

**_Whoa! I've never seen him move so quickly before!_**

Damien chases after the fleeing party, "Come on, Stuey! Let's go help him out!"

_"Oh…um…right."_

_I willingly join the ranks of Cena's epic pursuit, becoming more curious with every step._

* * *

><p><em>The fleeing eavesdropper cuts the corner to his left, attempting to lose the hastily pursuing Methuselah.<em>

Cena quickly turns the corner and gains on the runner's heel with every passing second. John's cybernetic build comes into play, launching him forward into a _monstrous_ athletic lunge! _The flying Methuselah tackles_ _the cowardly spy to the ground! John forcefully turns the struggling runner around, and mounts his heavier body weight over his grounded prey's smaller frame. _

**_The spy anxiously fights to free himself, "Let go! Let go of me, I say!"_**

_My boy and I arrive to the scene in the nick of time._

_Damien covers his mouth in shock! We're both **stunned** by the restrained eavesdropper's revealed image… Our spy…is the company's newest and youngest cameraman._

"_Mr. Geils_? _Why_ were you _eavesdropping_ on our conversation?"

_The struggling cameraman's pinned to the ground by John's cybernetic strength, "**AH!** I don't have to tell you **anything**, half-eater! You and **all** of your kind can **burn in hell with the rest of the devil's children!**"_

"_Oh_…so we've a _Gideonite_ on our hands, eh?" I walk up to Cena's powerful frame, looking down to see a graphic tattooing of a Scharlach Rosenkreuz on the cameraman's upper-right neck. "You _graciously_ _follow_ a group of _bloodsucking killers_, yet you have the _audacity_ to call _us** 'the devil's children'**_? _…What junkyard did you get that heaping pile of **bullshit** from, you **gutless** **Church** **leech**_?"

"_Talk_", Cena shakes the cameraman, instilling fear in the corrupted follower.

_"**Alright!** I'll talk… White Album, he's going to use the ashes of this arena to kill **everyone** in sight!"_

"_Ashes?_ But this place isn't a cemetery."

_"Make some sense", Cena shakes the cameraman, once again._

_"It…it **used** to be one… Four years ago, I swear it. This place was built **over** an old cemetery."_

"_Over?_ But, I thought that the _Willington Cemetery_ was–…"

_"No, **that's** just a tourist attraction", the cameraman's surprising report robs us of our words, leaving our party in a mode of total silence. "This arena…was built over the **real** one. **Don't** let him trick you, he's…"_

**_"AAH!"_**_ a woman's ghostly voice screams from the atmosphere around us, alerting **everyone** in my party._

_Damien and I turn around to see the forthcoming image of a **flaming skull of ectoplasm**._

**_"Jesus! What IS that thing…?" my boy swears in fright._**

**_By Jove, is that a …? _**

**_"AAH…! It's one of his 'vengeful spirits'!" the Gideonite nearly pisses himself._**

_John remains **unaffected** by the spirit's emergence, unlike the rest of us._

_The vengeful spirit's placed the Gideonite spy in an **overwhelming** state of anxiety, **"H-h-h...AAH…!"**_

_Geils is **shuddering** within a devastating panic… He realizes that he's being watched by the concealed Chanter of Elegies! That's odd… **Why** can't I sense Darren's existence **anywhere** in the area?_

**_"AAH!"_**_ screams the approaching spirit._

_John slightly adjusts the brim of his hat with his right hand, "Man… What a pain!" _

_The howling phantasm's hungry jaws charge directly towards the big man's skull, but Cena's existence faintly activates… His left arm is covered with a liquid alloy that allows him to safely **snatch** the vengeful spirit out of midflight. John manhandles the vengeful spirit with his shelled left limb._

_"No snack for you, ya little shit", John slaps the vengeful spirit with his left hand, making it shriek. The stubborn spirit continues screaming, making the Methuselah's **lose his** **last ounce of patience**. **"Shut up, or get shut down, ya loose cum splotch!"**_

_John **roughly bitch-slaps** the screaming spirit with his free hand, **"OH!"**_

_Damien and I are at a loss of words._

"Um…did he just _pimp slap_ a ghost?" I nod in response to my boy's question.

_The vengeful spirit's screaming is **finally** silenced… Geils is **shocked** by the Methuselah's **influential** **fortitude**. John looks down at the spineless Gideonite with a serpentine smile… Uh-oh! Looks like the bull-faced brute's "Boston-bred" attitude's about to surface its **frightful** influence._

**_"Wh-wh-what are you…about to do, man?" panics the young cameraman._**

_"Hey, kid, you see this?" John shows the vengeful spirit's skull head to the grounded cameraman. John allows the phantasm to **ravenously** snap its soul-hungry fangs at the pinned Gideonite's face. Cena **cruelly** holds the rabid ghost **inches** away from Geils's face, sending Geils into a **consuming** mode of anxiety. "You **see** what you're worshipping and following? There're people in the Church who'll let something like **this** **rip you to shreds**!"_

**_"No! Please, Mr. Cena, get that away from me!"_**

_"Do you **really** want to follow someone like that, kid?"_

**_"No! No! No, just get it away!"_**

_"Why? **Why** should I get rid of it, Michael Jay Geils?"_

**_"I won't tell anyone, I swear!"_**

_"Tell them what, man?"_

**_"About…the…I don't know!"_**

_"So you're going to resign your role as a Gideonite today, **right?**"_

**_"Yes…! For the love of God, just get that thing away from me!"_**_ the vengeful spirit's crushed in John's metallic grasp, being reduced to a fleeting cloud of ethereal smoke._

_"I don't believe you for a split second, kid."_

**_"But…Mr. Cena, I…" the young cameraman's been humiliated._**

_"Get up, **now**!" John demounts the cameraman, allowing Geils to hastily scuttle like an antsy crustacean._

_Cena motions his right index finger inward to the Gideonite, silently summoning Geils to an arm's distance from him… Cena snatches the cameraman by his collar, lifting him off of his feet. Geils's struck with an all-consuming fear… John **forces** the Gideonite to gaze into the **cold**, **dark** **oceans** of his eyes._

_"Do you **really** want to give up on humanity? Your family? Friends? Coworkers? Little children? People on the street without a place to lay their heads at night? **Can you really forsake all of those people, proudly stand up, chest out, shoulders broad and call yourself a man? HUH?**"_

**_"No, I can't!"_**

_"Are you **sure** about that?" the guilt eats away at the cameraman, mentally forcing him to **soil** his trouser. The smell's **quite** disturbing, **especially** to the manhandling Methuselah. John shakes his head. "You are **such** a liar… If you **didn't** want to keep following those bloodsuckers, you **wouldn't** have just **shit** **yourself like a little pansy**. Go wipe your ass and change your clothes, you've got a job to do. Despite your **absentmindedness**, you're still one of our coworkers… And do yourself a favor – **learn to mind your own business**. Now, get going."_

_John drops the shamed Gideonite on his feet, allowing him to scurry away in fear._

"Well…that was a _sick_ display of _cowardice_ on his part."

_"That's how Gideonites are, Stu", John turns to us with a confident smile. "I just worked him up a little. We won't have to worry about **him**, anymore. White Album will personally execute the kid for ratting him out like a chump. Basis military procedures."_

"For consulting with the enemy, _yes._ We're _well _aware of that. _That's_ just how Darren is… He's cold-blooded, and that's what makes him such a _dangerous_ opponent."

_Damien releases a breath of bottled hot air._

"I'm _still_ trying to get over him being White Album", my boy holds onto his left arm in a mode of discontent. "…Things have just gotten _way_ too out of hand. I _still_ don't know what happened to Jimi and Jey. I wish _someone_ would tell me the truth already."

_John gives me "the look" that I've grown to detest… He **knows** about me being the one who did it – the man that put the Usos out of action for a week. In this situation, I can't argue with John… He's absolutely right._

_It's about time that I tell my fiancé the truth._

"Damien…" my lover gazes into my darkened stare of guilt.

_"What is it, Daddy?"_

"…_I_ was the one who made them disappear", my boy's eyes widen in shock.

_"**What?** …But **why**, Stuart? What made you do something like that?"_

_"They were working for the Church", John interferes, speaking on my behalf. Damien pays attention to the cover boy's report. "Subjects Jonathan and Joshua Fatu were dispatched by the Church to assassinate your lover, DC. Stuart had no choice – he either went toe-to-toe with them like a man, or **died** trying to reason with them."_

"Damien…" my boy turns his attention to my guilty profile. He gently beholds the glassy filming of my teary eyes, seeing me at my _weakest_ state once again. _"I'm…I'm **terribly** sorry, love… But those two **never** liked me. They **hated** me…so much that they **gladly** took that assignment. Our battle wasn't **any** **ordinary** **confrontation**…it was **much** more personal than that."_

_"I don't understand… They've **never** told me, let alone **shown** me anything like that. I don't get it – **what** would make those two behave in such an **irrational** manner?"_

_I don't have a **proper** **answer** for that question, so our cybernetic comrade breaks the ice to my boy._

"_Well_, it's no secret , DC – Jimi and Jey's been _crushing_ on you since they were promoted to the main roster", John's revelation places my boy in a state of guilt and shock. John places his right hand onto my boy's shoulder, petting him like a big brother. " Hey now, little bro… _None_ of this is your fault, so man-up. The Twins were _consumed_ by jealousy, that's all… But, _luckily_, Stu's Paradise City has _just_ finished purifying them."

"Really now, Cena? When did you find this out?"

"This morning, actually", John places his extended right in his pocket, speaking directly to me about the situation. "Father Andrew told me that they're _currently_ being held at our Barcelona Branch. The Twins are under the surveillance of our Witness Protection Program. Reports have labeled them as _'mentally brand-new'_, like they've forgotten _everything_ about the Church…_especially_ their failed assassination attempt."

_Damien releases a light breath of relief._

_"Well, I guess that explains the mystery behind their disappearance", my boy looks up at me and smiles. His gentle beam fills my heart with a bolt of relief. Damien clings to my waist like a giddy teenager. "Thank you, Daddy… You've saved my friends from the Church. I'm going to give you **extra** **attention** tonight, love."_

I share a few pecks with my boy, _relieved_ to know that I've done something good for him.

For a _while_ now, I thought that my actions would've _upset_ the little sugar. Looks like my suspicions were proven to be _nothing_ _more_ than excess emotions.

_"**Mmm**…sugar chops", I hum with delight, making my boy giggle._

_John playfully hoots at us. _

"_Oooh!_ Honeymooning _already_, are we?" John's little crack tickles me for a second. The cover boy's mobile alarm goes off. He checks it, noticing that it's time to get ready for the show. John switches off after a single repeat of its _'church bell'_ ringtone. "Looks like it's _showtime_, boys."

_"…Yes, it would seem so", my voice has become dark with dreaded anticipation._

"Don't worry, man. Me and the _rest_ of the Lost Boyz got your back. Just go out there, act professional and try _not_ to seem _'obvious'_. _You know how **Cole** can act, with his little **queenly** ass."_

"Yes, I can hear him aimlessly yapping now – **_'What seems to be the problem, Wade?_**", John's tickled by my accurate impersonation of the infamous heel commentator. **_"Blah-blah, yakkity smackity! Tampons chips and bean dip to go, ya know!"_**

_John wails in laughter, and I join him for a spell._

John calms down with a sigh, "Thanks for that, man. It's _nice_ to get in a g_ood laugh_ before walking through the gates of hell. Know what I mean?"

"Yes, right you are, old boy", for the first time, Cena and I exchange a handshake like proper gentlemen… It breath of fresh air – two men _'burying the hatchet'_ for a greater cause. "Thanks for your efforts, John. See you out there, bro… I already _know_ that Darren's going to cause _a catastrophic scene_, so please have your men on standby. I'm _not_ _doubting_ our abilities, but a little _'extra help'_ wouldn't hurt."

"I'm down with that. Keep your head up, soldier."

"Thanks again, John", I look to my boy, whose my _current_ onscreen manager. He grabs his clipboard like the little professional that he is. I caress his cheek with my left set of fingers. "Ready to grace every telly in the world with your _stunning_ image, love?"

_Damien clings to my left arm, "Escort **me**?"_

**_"Escort me?"_**_ I playfully mock, tickling my former rival once again. I shoot John a grateful smile, and depart with my boy for the Titantron. "Take care of yourself, John."_

_"Are you guys ready to 'roll out'?" the Methuselah turn around, addressing a set of obscured figures standing in the dimness of a nearby broken lighting panel… Two gentlemen and a lady. The bigger man of the obscured group shoots him a thumbs-up with his right hand. John turns on his heel and examines our remote image. "Good. Those two are White Album's **primary** targets. He's bound to go for 'Boss Lady' and the others soon enough… But, until then, we **have** to make sure that those two are protected at **all** times. Darren's an **SS Class** life form, so **anything's** possible… Lost Boyz, prepare to dispatch upon my command."_

_"Roger!" answers the concealed Methuselahs._

John and his band of Lost Boyz have willingly extended their helping hands to us.

I had no _idea_ that Infinity had "a Barcelona Branch", but it's **more** than believable. If there're Churches scattered _everywhere_ across the globe, then there's **sure** to be radicals lurking around the corner.

I'm actually **quite** **curious** about them – the cybernetic attack units called "Methuselahs"… _And my old rival's one of them?_…**_Hmm!_** Well, I didn't expect _that_ little surprise… But the question _still_ remains: J_ust who are the other members of the Lost Boyz…and just how **incredible** is this band of warriors in the heat of battle?_

___Knowing **my** bad luck, I'm sure to find that out…**soon enough**.___

* * *

><p>From the highest levels of the J.P. McCartney Sports Center, a pair of watchful eyes observes the monumental energies circulating throughout the arena. The theme of Smackdown cues at precisely 7:00 PM. My grandfather, an extroverted enigma, tilts his black hat's round brim.<p>

_("It's beginning…the dreaded climax"), the old man foresees a grave image._

The Smackdown color-commentators are respectfully introduced.

_Booker T, Josh Mathews, and Michael Cole each take their turns to walk the Titantron's ramp with epic presence… Damien and I are on standby for the opening match._

_My boy notices someone coming our way, "Daddy, looks like Curtis is ready for battle."_

Johnny arrives, ready for his first live match in over a month. He seems pumped with confidence. The poor boy… He hasn't _the faintest_ _idea_ – the _terrors_ that his opponent's capable could very well _end_ his life.

_"You two ready to put on a show?" he cracks his knuckles, relieving a little tension from his fists._

"Yes… But the question is: Are _you_ ready, rookie?"

_"**More** than ready", Johnny receives a pat to his back from my boy._

"Go get im, tiger. Give him what for."

_"Oh, you **bet** I will", our stable's new entrance theme cues at 7:03 PM._

_Currently, Curtis is my onscreen pupil. He's supposedly learning the ropes from me, but he's scandalously harboring feelings for my boy. It's a cute little storyline, but it's nothing more than that. Damien begins petting up the rookie like he always does – brotherly and motivationally._

_Our stable proceeds down the ramp. The crowd energetically **excites** for my pupil's first match._

_"Break free!" repetitively chants the WWE Universe a bothersome beat._

_Damien follows the script, verbally coaching the rookie for the battle to come… We separate halfway, allowing the rookie to enter the ring with departing good wishes. The tension's building up inside of me… I know that Darren's going attempt to do something **heinously** **unspeakable** to the young man._

_My boy and I join the fabulous cast of the commentator's table, sitting in our reserved chairs._

_"Welcome back to the table, boys", greets Booker T._

"It's always a pleasure to join you fine gentlemen", sociably obliges my boy.

_"So, Barrett, your golden boy's got a match tonight", sarcastically points Cole._

"Yes, I'm well aware of that."

_"We've heard you've been training him for the past month. How do you think you're advice, your lessons and your commitment to this one night will go?"_

"_Personally_, Michael, I think the boy's ready. Our training team's helped me quite a lot with the young man. He's got a lot of potential, and I'm rooting for him. I've told him to go in there to _win_, and it looks like his mind's _right on the ball_ this evening."

"Good form, Mr. Barrett", compliments my boy.

_"Thanks a bunch, Mr. Crosse."_

_William Regal's entrance theme cues at 7:07 PM. _

_"And here he is – 'Mr. I Mean Business' himself", wittily recognizes Mathews._

_"Josh, don't disrespect the man", as if **that** reaction wasn't anticipated._

_"What are you talking about **now**, Cole?" huffs the annoyed Booker T._

_"He's insulting a man who's bound to become a **legend** in this business. That man deserves all the credit that's due to him."_

_"Oh lord", I speak under my breath._

_"Don't 'oh lord' me. He's a freaking 'puppeteer' in the ring – William Regal knows **every** attack needed to take apart his opponent. That's **sheer** genius."_

_"My word…" my boy gasps at Cole's profile._

_"What is it **this** time, Mr. Crosse?"_

_"You've something **'brown'** on your upper lip, **Mikey**", Booker chokes on his laughter._

_"Oh shut up, Booker!" Cole teases away with his tail between his legs._

_Darren enters into the ring, relieving himself of his traditional royal robe._

_The bell rings, starting up the first match of the entire tourney._

_"So, Mr. Crosse, what's the relationship between you and Johnny Curtis?" noses Mathews._

"Whatever do you mean, Josh?"

_"Well, there are rumors that you two are…well…"_

"…_Fraternizing_, I've heard _all_ about them", acknowledges my boy.

_"You know what, that's been bothering me, too", seconds Booker. "What **is** your take on all of the gossip?"_

"Mr. Barrett and I are _professionals_. We don't _engage_ in needless hearsay. Let the locker room say what they want to about me. Their _bloody_ _tongues_ could fall off for all I care."

_"Oh, don't give us that 'nerves of steel' act, Crosse", picks Cole._

"I beg your pardon?" my boy shoots the arrogant commentator a sharp look.

_"You know that bothers you, so stop being such a nerd!"_

_"Oh, go somewhere and let the **rest** of your **miniature loins** decompose", my boy's crack tickles Booker once again. Damien joins in on the laughter. "Yes, that was a good one."_

_"You tellin' me, man", the two onscreen buddies share a few short moments of laughter at Cole's expense._

_The match isn't going so well._

Johnny's _every_ attempt to overpower his opponent isn't working in his fare. I've told that _moron_ not to play "the power game" against a veteran like Darren. _Sure_, the rookie's youth and physical strength's _very_ _impressive_…_but that old bastard's no **ordinary** competitor._

**_"DOH!"_**_ he receives a chin-smashing European uppercut, causing him to stagger back._

_Johnny counters with a quick front kick to the veteran's sternum, **"AH!"**_

_The rookie connects with a sitout suplex slam, driving Darren's back and shoulders into the mat!_

_Johnny celebrates a bit too early, pointing to my boy in excitement, "That one's for you, baby!"_

"Oh…um…thank you, Jonathan", my boy mocks blushing, and notices that Darren's rising to his feet. Everyone becomes antsy, especially Damien. _"Johnny, he's right behind you!"_

_The rookie turns around to a running clothesline that knocks him over the top rope!_

_"No! You're such a bleeding simpleton!" I relieve myself of my earphones, walk up to my pupil and help him to his feet. He's landed roughly on his back on the padded canvas, so I know he's in a lot of pain. Not being able to hear Cole's meaningless banter with my boy, I begin coaching my onscreen pupil. "Don't lose your head, man. You've got him right where you want him. Keep your head in the game and stay focused."_

_Darren blindsides me with a steel chair, knocking me flat onto my face!_

_The bell rings due to the venomous veteran's premeditated actions. I guess that was stupid on my part, but I was so worried about the boy that…well…I lost my head for a second. I damn near got my skull smashed in._

_"The winner by disqualification: **Johnny Curtis!**" announces Tony Chimel._

_…And then…it begins._

_"Shut up…" Darren's vampire blood excites, causing him to toss the steel chair for Chimel's skull_

**_Everyone in the arena is shocked to see the veteran's blatant display of violence._**

_Chimel ducks down, allowing the chair to boomerang in a wide circle… The chair returns to Darren's left grasp, where he holds it above his head. He plans to **brutalize** my grounded body until I'm unable to breathe!_

_Damien's Crusnik blood excites with a righteous anger._

_"Oh, no you don't!" my boy loses his earphones and reflexively darts forward._

_The bloodthirsty clergyman ignites his steel chair with a ghostly aura capable of severing a man's body in half… **Damn it! **I'm suffering a mild concussion! I can't…move **quickly** enough!_

**_"Die!"_**_ the venomous predator attempts to violently slam the chair on my head, but his attack's stopped by the recovered rookie. Johnny holds onto the steel chair, feeling the burning sensation of ectoplasm eating at his skin. Darren smiles at the young man's obliviousness. "You think you can stop me, boy? **Know your place!**"_

**_"Hiiiiyaaah…!"_**_ Damien leaps over the entire ring, astounding everyone in the arena._

_Even Michael Cole's pissing his pants in awe, "Holy crap! Do you see that…?"_

_"He's…flying through the air?" Mathews is at a loss of words._

_"That's just insane!" dittoes Booker._

_My boy lands a perfectly calculated missile dropkick to the veteran's left jaw!_

**_"Un-freaking-believable!"_**_ the color-commentators and the WWE Universe are wowed by such an inhuman display of athleticism. Damien bounds off of the veteran's jaw, sending Darren headfirst to the canvas. My boy graces the air with a beautiful high merman's backflip, landing perfectly on his feet in the center of the ring. The crowd's **raving** over my boy's fighting ability, reminiscing about the days when harnesses were used for a lot of Pay-Per-View events. Booker's feeling the energy in the room. "Ooh…! They want to see **Mr. Crosse** get down with old Bill! Do you hear the fans, y'all? Do you feel the excitement? **This** is how it's supposed to be done on Smackdown! **This** is what it's all about, baby!"_

_Darren stands up, holding his injured jaw with a furious right hand. The underground informant's enraged snare graces my boy's buxom image… The heat's on high in the J.P. McCartney Sports Center._

_"Get your ass in here, old man", Damien calls the old-school predator into the ring with a provocative right index finger. Darren obliges Damien's provocation, darting into the ring after my daring lover. My boy performs his signature 'high leap-frog' over the veteran's shoulders, successfully evading a furious spear to the ribs. The crowd goes wild, watching as my boy cuts into a succession of graceful backflips! Darren bounces backfirst off the ropes and catches Damien mid-flip on the midpoint of his seventh flip. However, my boy appears to be amused. "Now you should **already** **know** what comes after this, old man!"_

_"What are you talking about…?" the veteran's interrupted by a lead pipe to his lower back._

_My pupil's just saved my boy from being driven headfirst into the canvas!_

**_"GAAH!"_**_ Darren submits to his injuries, falling onto his hands and knees in a great deal of pain._

_Damien lands properly on his feet, turns around, climbs Darren's exposed knee with his left foot and performs a falling Enzuigiri – one of his trademark wrestling techniques. Darren's swatted on his medulla oblongata by my boy's right foot, and is knocked to the mat!_

_I awaken from my concussion, looking into the ring to see my boy fighting in my honor._

_However, things turn for the worst…_

_…Darren's lost his last ounce of patience!_

**_"Arise! Dead President!"_**_ the furious bloodsucker's silver territory expands 685 bm within the building's parameters. Though the fans are unable to see the territory, they begin to hear the disturbing sound of a woman's terrifying scream. The vengeful spirits are rising from the ashes buried underneath the arena, but the crowd's amazed by their presence. The people are **triggered** by a vengeful spirit devouring an innocent man… The WWE Universe is sent scurrying away in fear. The excited clergyman becomes **mad** with malicious delight. **"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…! Devour them all, my precious children!"**_

_My boy attempts to stop the crazed summoner with a glowing, blood-infused punch to the back of his head. The impact would **surely** knock the summoner unconscious… However, my boy's suddenly attacked by a single vengeful spirit!_

**_"Whoa!" _**_Damien's pinned to the ground, struggling to get the vengeful spirit off of his body. **"Get the hell off of me, you bone-faced swimmer!"**_

_Johnny heroically races to my boy's rescue, "Hang on, DC!"_

_I'm almost in the ring… Oh god, my head's spinning!_

_"Get off of him!" Johnny tosses the vengeful spirit away by its ghostly flaming tail._

_Johnny helps by boy to his feet, holding onto Damien in a mode of relief._

_"Are you all right, little buddy?" Johnny receives a smile and a nod from my boy._

**_"AAH!"_**_ the same vengeful spirit blindsides the rookie, knocking him over the top rope to a fatal fall. _

_Curtis hits the canvas facefirst, his collarbone pushed against his upper spine… Such a brutal collision would cause **terminal** cerebral hemorrhaging to a normal man but, from what I remember Darren saying earlier…**Curtis isn't human**._

_The young man plays smart – Curtis instantly begins playing possum to throw the predator off his game._

_However, Darren's **not** **falling** for such menial trickeries, "Don't play dumb! **Get up! False Idols!**"_

_The necromancer's chant summons spheres of ghostly light from the ashes underneath the arena. Johnny notices that I'm climbing into the ring, and attempts to get up… However, his injuries **forbid** **any** upper body movement. **Johnny's pinned to the ground!** Damn it, I've **no** **choice** in the matter! I don't **care** about lawsuits or **any other **trivial junk like that! People are being **killed**… And…and I'm…_

**_I'm going to put an end to this madness!_**

**_"Expand! Paradise City!"_**_ my existence's activation fries the spherical apparitions to a ghostly smoke._

_The specters release feminine shrieks of death, falling one after the other to my sunlit territory. The wicked necromancer turns on his heel in amusement… I've fully surfaced in the ring on the western end. Darren maliciously smiles upon my infuriated image, delighted to see me in such a state of mind._

_"Welcome to the party, young man… What brings you back from the dead? Revenge? Anger? **Both?**"_

_My frame **burns** with a seething solar aura._

_"…You see what you've **done**, you old **fool**?" I wrathfully hiss at the psychotic necromancer, rousing his sickening leer. "You've just killed **several** people tonight…and caused this company **an arse load of problems!** Do you have **anything** to say before **I** **destroy you right here and now?**"_

_A few of the necromancer's vengeful spirits gather at his side, supporting their master's cruel ambitions._

_"Just one thing, young man…" the old man points his left index finger at my stationary body. **"…And it's this! Wake the Dead!**"_

_The vengeful spirits charge forward, fusing into one large ghastly phantasm!_

_I excite my blood with **anger**, causing my burning aureole to surround my fists with a coating of sunlight. By Jove! I believe that I've discovered a **new** attack… I can feel it – my emotions calling forth **something** **extraordinary**… Yes, I'm **sure** of it! **This will break the bastard's offense in half**._

_Very well… **Here goes nothing!**_

**_"Eye of Helios!"_**_ I shoot both of my fists forward in a tight arrow._

**_A large sphere of sunlight to emerges from my extended knuckles! My newest technique, Eye of Helios, and Darren's Wake the Dead catastrophically collide!_**

_The color-commentators have reached the top steps, but are **halted** by what they're seeing._

**_"What the hell…?" swears Cole._**

_"Is that…**a miniature sun**?" seconds Mathews. _

_"Looks that way, man", dittoes Booker._

_Damien runs up to Johnny's injured boy, noticing that his dislocated collarbone's paralyzed his neck. My boy becomes resourceful, and summons a hint of his Crusnik blood into the palm of his right hand._

_"Hold still, Johnny", my boys pours the lifeblood onto the young man's open wound, causing a bizarre series of reactions. The dislocated collarbone's surgically placed in the correct alignment with his shoulders. After that, the cerebral damages are repaired in exactly 35 seconds… Following this, Johnny's breathing returns to normal. The rookie's back and neck have been repaired…**and it hurts like hell**. "How does that feel, Huggy Bear?"_

_Johnny's very **vividly** confesses his bodily._

**_"YOW! SOMEBODY GET THE NUMBER OF THAT BULLET TRAIN!"_**_ comically blurts the rookie in an overwhelming amount of upper pain… The pain lessens, making my body smile. Damien happily pets the young man, but Curtis is still quite tender on his shoulders. **"Ouch-ouch-ouch! Not the neck! Not the neck, please?"**_

_"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Sorry about that, dear", innocently giggles my boy._

_The color-commentators are stunned to see Curtis back on his feet._

**_"Huh? Didn't he just die…?"_**_ Cole collapses on his bottom in an overwhelming state of shock._

_"What kind of freak show is this…?" seconds Mathews._

_"The kind that gets an ass-load of ratings", optimistically declares the smiling Houstonian._

**_"Are you serious…?"_**_ Mathews and Cole are appalled by Booker's view of the situation._

_"You **bet** I am", Booker shoots his prize smile, sending his fellow commentators into frozen outrage._

_Eye of Helios and Wake the Dead have come to an impasse._

_We're locked in a **calamitous** struggle of power! The battling powers become dangerously hostile, reacting to our rising adrenaline. Our increased passion rouses a massive draft from our attacks' the collision point! The entire arena's animated with a **cataclysmic** **maelstrom**! The Smackdown commentators cover their eyes, protecting their vision from the ghostly gales' wicked bite!_

**_"What the heck's going on…?" complains the terrified heel commentator._**

**_"Is this some kind of tornado…?" seconds the young Mathews._**

**_"Ratings!" chants the hysterical Texan._**

**_"Booker, knock it off!" complains his fellow commentators._**

_Damien and Johnny hold onto each other, kneeling down in an attempt to stay grounded._

_"Damn it! Where's Cena and the others when you need them…?" complains the rookie._

_"They said they'd be lurking around the corner!"_

_"**What?** Then, where the **hell** are they…?"_

_"Look at what Stuart's doing, Johnny", the rookie turns his attention to the ring, and closely examines our spiritual deadlock. "He's becoming stronger! If they interfere now, he **won't** be able to increase the power of his existence! Stuart's power is based off of **empathy** – the more worked up or excited he becomes, **the better**!"_

_"Yeah, I know! But…that guy's got some **monstrous** **power**!"_

**_"He doesn't care!"_**_ my boy's persistence silences the young giant. Damien calms his voice, and begins explaining my reason for engaging in battle. "He's doing this to **protect** people! Darren came here to lure Stuart out by attempting to **kill you**, but it's not that simple anymore… Several men, women, **and** children have **died** because of that bastard! Stuart **initially** came to the ring to **save your life**, not because of some **goddamned script!**"_

_The rookie's unable to absorb such benevolence… Johnny looks into the ring, noticing the struggle's starting to give on the enemy side. Darren's fighting just to keep his balance._

_"He's…doing all of that…**for me?**"_

_"That's right, Jonathan…" the rookie looks down into my boy's loving eyes. "…Stuart's a brave man that's risking his life for **everyone**, **especially** you. You've **so much** potential, and you're a **valued** asset to this business… **And, it'll be a cold day in hell before we let that bastard have his way with you, again.**"_

_Johnny looks up at struggle of power, silently praying for my victory._

_He's never seen me in this state… It makes him not regret taking the role of my onscreen pupil. In his heart, he feels that I have the strength to win._

____("Fight, Stu, fight"), his fists shake with a righteous faith. ("All of those hours of training you put me through better mean something, man! Don't give up! Take that bastard out right now!")____

* * *

><p><em>"Is everyone all right?" asks Natalie of his lover.<em>

_The boys finish helping with the injured, allowing the ambulances to carry them to safety._

_"Looks like that's the last of them", disgustedly acknowledges TJ._

_Everyone turns on their heels, looking at the quaking foundation in awe._

_"What the hell's going on in there…?" swears Stephen._

_"Pandemonium, of course", answers Raj._

_Hennigan nods in agreement, "Yeah, I can feel the energy release from here. It's massive."_

_"We've been asked to cover the outside parameters, boys. Stay sharp and be ready to react to anything."_

_"Right", nods the boys._

_Meanwhile, inside of the arena, things are starting to look **extremely** grim._

_Darren's beginning to lose his patience …_

_…His ghostly energies are starting to surface as lose phantasms trailing within our powers' colossal maelstrom. I don't know what he's about to do…but this **doesn't** look good._

_"I've grown tired of you, boy!" the necromancer's supernatural energies have risen to a deadly peak._

_I attempt to build up my confidence with a little trash talk, "How many times must you call upon these **flimsy** ghosts, old man? I think Willington's had enough of your **meaningless** **lightshow** for one night!"_

**_"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"_**_ the old man's venomous laughter fills the air with a hint of anxiety._

_Darren's psychopathic mirth rouses his spectral helpers, attracting them to his struggling body. His joyful hiss becomes more frightening, as his supernatural muscle begins building with every passing moment. Everyone watching this bizarre turn of events is shocked beyond words… Darren's Wake the Dead technique's expanding to **gargantuan** **proportions** – so large that the roof's starting to **trembling off its bolting**._

_"This isn't a lightshow, boy…" the old man's voice sends chills down my spine._

**_"How…did you get all of this…power?"_**

_"…From the children of the dead, of course. You're **quite** the existence user, Stuart… But, just like **all** fledglings fighters, **you're doomed to dissolve in Dead President's cold bite.**"_

_What's he doing? **What's he about to do…?**_

**_"Wake the Dead! Final Goodbye!"_**_ the powerful clergyman's massive projectile begins slowly moving forward, putting everyone on the receiving end in grave danger. Darren's laughter lights the arena with an overwhelming mass of **trepidation**. **"Farewell, abomination! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!"**_

**_Oh no! It's going to hit us… This is it!_**

_Grandfather, if you can hear me… Please…**HELP ME!**_

**_"Destroy! Great Balls of Fire!"_**_ a powerful array of ferocious silver flames spontaneously emerges from the bottom of the Titantron's ramp._

**_The powers collide!_**

_The intercepting technique completely shatters the large ghostly projectile into a cloud of smoke. Darren shields himself with a protective wall of ghosts, but the oncoming attack proves to be the deciding power! The seasoned veteran's overpowered and flung backfirst over the top rope!_

_Darren crashes into the stadium's southern B section, suffering **serious** injuries…_

_…But, not even this is **incapable** of killing a vampire of Darren's caliber._

_Darren opens his eyes to look upon a ghastly image standing on the Titantron's ramp._

_The team of color commentators looks down to see a group of five people standing just steps away from the rest of my stable… Damien and Johnny turn around to see a glorious image. I do the same thing…and my eyes widen at the sight of the righteous cavalry._

_John and his band of Lost Boyz are have finally arrived._

_And the other Methuselahs are…_

_…**Wait a second! Eve? Kevin? Jayson…?** Whoa! Who would've guessed it…?_

_"Sorry we kept you waiting, Stu", Kevin apologizes._

_"Good job hanging in there, rookie", proudly congratulates Eve._

_"Somewhat, at least", sarcastically snickers Jayson._

_"At ease, Jay", John commands._

_"Hold the applause, hold the applause!" cheers the leading man in the black hat._

_Wait…is that…my **grandfather** leading the band of heroes?_

_"I never thought I'd have to use that technique in a confined space…" my grandfather's right fist smolders with a fleeting silver flame. He delightedly smiles, proud to see how big and strong I've become. "…Well, I'll be goddamned! You look just like **my** old man! You're most definitely **my** grandson, all right."_

_"Grandpa…is that **really** **you**?"_

_"Nice to finally meet you, kid", my grandfather leaps high into the air, flying to a perfect landing at my right side… I look down at the old man, wondering who could be hiding underneath the big black hat. Grandpa Christopher stands to his feet, joining me to give the approaching clergyman a numerical handicap. We look to Darren, watching as he leaps into the center of the ring. The infamous Chanter of Elegies shoots us a furious stone eye, ready to take our lives at the drop of a dime. My grandfather retains a cool head, adjusting the brim of his hat with a gentle right grip. "I saw the whole thing… And trust me, you're **not** leaving this arena with your life. Mummy Kate and her team are waiting outside with the rest of the survivors. You have **nowhere** **else** to run, Christian. God's plenty angry with you, old boy… And you're about to be c**ut down by his almighty wrath!**"_

_Hold the phone… I **recognize** that voice! **Is he really…?**_

**_"Runnels…is that you?"_**_ my grandfather responds by relieving himself of his big black hat. My eyes widen, surprised to see that my suspicions…**are absolutely correct**. I'm staring at the image of **Cody Rhodes** – the youngest son of Dusty Rhodes the American Dream… **Are you fucking kidding me…? **"How…in the **hell** can this be true…?"_

_"I'll explain later, kid", my unveiled grandfather places his big black hat back on his head._

_I'm **still** in a mode of shock._

_I can't believe that, **of all people**, one of the company's **primary** **heels**…**is my grandfather**?_

_"Stay sharp, boy", my grandfather's Americanized accent calls my vision to the image of the stationary necromancer. "He's strong, Stuart, but he's not the strongest. Good job on discovering your Eye of Helios… Your Great-grandfather would be proud."_

_"Thanks a bunch, grandpa."_

_"I'm sorry to interrupt this cute little reunion…" Darren's growing tired of our family bonding. "…But, can we speed things up here? I've **other** business to attend to, **besides** **crushing the lot of you with my bare hands!**"_

_"Have it your way, old boy", my grandfather and I are roused for battle. And, for the first time, I get to see my grandfather activate his existence with my own eyes. **"Cut them down! Sticky Fingers!"**_

_Grandpa Christopher's existence fuses with my own, creating a combined expansion rate of 1600 bm._

_Thankfully, Natalie's asked all bystanders to evacuate the area. The outside's clear of all those without an existence, for we all know what would happen if they remained in the area… A larger headcount of injured civilians._

_My grandfather and I stand side-by-side, ready to take the legendary clergyman on as a family._

_"You ready, kid?" I nod to my grandfather with a delighted smile._

_"Yes, grandpa. I'm **more** than ready."_

_Our eyes meet the venomous image of the **strongest** opponent I've **ever** had to face._

_But, with my grandfather at my side…will I **finally** stand a chance against the mythical Chanter of Elegies?_

_What will become of the arena? Will it crumble before the might of Darren's ghastly existence, Dead President? Can we find the power to counter such a dreadful fate?_

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme – "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Up Next: Chapter 11 – I Walk the Line)<em>**


	12. Chapter 11: I Walk the Line

**_BLOOD/Night_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Opening Theme <em>– "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<em>_**

* * *

><p><em>The epic war of races has taken an ugly turn…<em>

…_Sister Mary Victoria, in a blinding fit of rage, sabotaged Father Andrew's scheduled demonstration at Eternum University. Her primary target – Methuselah X-0769: Brother Randal K. Orton. The vengeful vestal's efforts to rouse the Methuselah's anger were successful, almost claiming the life of Randal's half-sister, Susana Quintero – known by her peers as "Suzie Q"._

_In a deciding battle, Sister Mary Victoria's existence of stars, Material Girl, failed her. The combination of Father Andrew's immense intellect and the Highwaymen's cybernetic muscle exposed the inferiority of the vestal's incensed battle front… Her heinous actions awarded her a sentencing of 25 years to life in Infinity HQ's Maximum Security Prison. But, the aftermath of the transpired events would prove to be __**more**__ than devastating._

_Our battle against Hunico's undead forces brought out the best in all of us… But, the emotional experience burned a lamented hole in our hearts. Prior to our comrade's (Father Luis Urive's) successful detaining of his sociopathic elder half-sibling, we discovered that the grounds we fought on…once belonged to a __**progressive**__ Spanish colony._

_Due to the colony's rebellion against the Church, the entire settlement, ironically called "Copa Cabana", was wiped off of the face of the earth…__**in approximately 300 years**__. We discovered that the little child Hunico impersonated (Brother Enrique M. Iglesias) had been dead for over a century… He died before he could even reach puberty…at only 9 years old. Just like all the former pioneers, Little Enrique saw his death and an early age._

_Famine._

_Starvation._

_Birth complications._

_Suicide._

_Murder._

_All of these things and __**more**__ claimed the lives of hundreds, if not __**thousands**__ of men, women, and children… And we were utterly devastated. The memories of what happened during the Copa Cabana Incident simmered in our hearts for the rest of our trip to Willington._

_The sorrow soon subsided, and my party found rest at a local hotel on the outskirts of Willington._

_In the privacy of our hotel suite, my boy and I engaged into a rather…__**ahem**__…__**heated**__ game of "tag the tushy". Our combined sexual energies reached an all-time high, but the essence of a committed romance proved to be __**much**__ higher… The act plunged me deeper into my boy's oceans of love. Our relationship was strengthened in the process… However, just as fate would have it, things became __**ugly**__ all over again._

_**The renowned Chanter of Elegies, White Album, revealed his true identity.**_

_The man that I admired and looked to as "a father figure" in the wrestling business – Darren Matthews, a.k.a. William Regal – was __**the**__ legendary Chanter of Elegies. Around the time, Hennigan joined our party for an early-morning dining experience. The baby-faced nightwalker gave us good news about the progression of his lady's fetus. We wittily congratulated him, happily building an excellent relationship with our former adversary… We also found out some rather disturbing news._

_In the aftermath of Sister Mary Victoria's imprisonment, the Gideonite Embassy suffered a great battle wound… Every Gideonite employed by the Embassy…__**was laid off due to wage cuts**__._

_Natalie conveyed the briefing she received from Father Andrew, explaining the rechristening of the Church's emblem, the Scarlet Lunar Cross. The angry Gideonites renamed the emblem __**"Scharlach Mondkreuz"**__ – a gesture symbolic of their provoked mass of anger. Those carrying the christened Scharlach Mondkreuz would prove to be a problem for our travelling party from that point on._

_And then, __**he**__ entered the scene._

_Darren venomously introduced himself to my boy…and reintroduces himself to the rest of our party. His foreboding presence strikes our hearts with a toxic dosage of anxiety. As a parting gesture, after provoking us with a serpentine tongue, the infamous clergyman sets up a rendezvous in order to put an early end to our journey. Our hearts are filled with a mode of silent anticipation._

_Amidst the grand view of the Moldavian landscape, my oldest living ancestor (Count Valdo von Dracula) received a highly honored guest… The Archbishop of the Church, revealed to be the __**resurrected**__ Thaddeus Elmer Beatles, graced the darkness of the count's ominous countryside chateau. Archbishop Beatles conveyed a negative report to the dark lord, and was successful in rousing the dark enigma's disapproval… However, the notion was courteously discharged… The count had "other plans" in store for the archbishop._

_Count Valdo began showing his "generous side" to the archbishop._

_The dark lord shared a drink with his visitor, at the expense of a young and amorous chambermaid. They bonded and exchanged intriguing dialogue… And then they engaged in a __**lascivious**__ change of events._

_In an effort to wean Thaddeus of his newfound love for humans, the mythical Count Valdo stripped himself of his royal robes… He proudly gifted his secret lover with a finely sculpted herculean physique._

"_Let me join with you, boy."_

_The count's passionate touch sets the handsome ecclesiast aflame with sinful desire… The archbishop succumbed to the count's seductive provocations, and conceded to the dark lord's poisonous touch. The Moldavian night skies were lit by the archbishop's submissive cries of pleasure._

_Later on that evening, an old onscreen rival (John Cena) reintroduced himself as a Methuselah working for Infinity's Barcelona Branch. Cena successfully helped with the seizure of a cowardly Gideonite working for our company. It was at this point that Darren's true intentions were exposed… He planned on causing a catastrophic scene during the evening's live recording of Friday Night Smackdown._

_Cena and his band of cybernetic comrades, the Lost Boyz, vowed their assistance in case of an emergency. _

_A few minutes later, my fiancé and I escorted our onscreen "golden boy" (Johnny Curtis) to the ring. We joined the wonderful team of color-commentators (Booker T, Mathews and Cole), engaging in a rather __**hilarious**__ exchange of scripted dialogue. It was a __**good**__ little show – I'd gladly do it again… But then, Darren entered the scene in his customary ring gear and royal robe._

_The veteran and the rookie put on an amazing show for the WWE Universe. However, the situation soon became very grim… Darren __**purposely**__ got himself __**disqualified**__ by __**blindsiding**__ me with a steel chair. The clergyman's callous actions knocked me into a concussion, and I was unable to respond for a few minutes… With a venomous smile, Darren elevated his steel chair above his head, aiming to take my life with a __**fatal**__**thrash**__ to the skull._

_Luckily, Damien and Johnny came to my aid._

_Darren's normal physical abilities fail him, but his uncanny supernatural might prove to be __**more**__ than a challenge for the two-man front… The WWE Universe, as energetic and excited as they were, __**weren't**__**ready**__ for the terrors of Darren's existence of death, __**Dead President**__._

_Dead President's ghostly onslaught claimed the lives of __**several**__ innocents, and __**nearly**__ took Johnny out of his misery. I discovered that Johnny's an Infinity radical from the unpleasant mobile dialogue I shared with Darren the night before… Johnny's not a normal human man, which played well in his fare._

_Even after suffering a __**fatal**__ neck injury, the young man was __**still**__ kicking. Damien applied an unorthodox transfusion of his Crusnik blood to our friend's __**gruesome**__ battle wounds… Johnny's injuries were healed by the transfusion, but his body was…__**slightly**__ tender afterwards._

_I engaged in a losing effort against the cold-blooded Chanter of Elegies._

_Even after discovering a new technique (Eye of Helios), I was __**still no match**__ for the veteran's seasoned spiritual prowess. Darren's "Wake the Dead – Final Goodbye" technique overpowered my Eye of Helios, and I believed "the end" was near… My heart, in response to my overwhelming trepidation, called out to my grandfather… Grandfather Christopher gives an answer to my mental distress in the nick of time._

_**"****Destroy! Great Balls of Fire!"**__ the cavalry arrived, presented by my grandfather's signature attack._

_Joined by John and his band of Lost Boyz (Eve Torres, Kevin Kiley, Jr. [Alex Riley], and Jayson Paul [JTG]), my grandfather comes to my aid. My curiosity got the best of me, and I humbly requested to see my grandfather's exposed face. He was revealed to be… __**Cody Rhodes (Runnels)**__, the youngest son of "The American Dream" Dusty Rhodes (Virgil Runnels, Jr.). I wanted to know __**why**__ – __**how**__ it could be possible… I remember him changing his name and his identity, but I __**never**__ thought he'd be, __**of all people**__… __**the infamous Phantom of the Ring**__._

_Still, it didn't matter to me. W__**hat's**__ in a name…if you __**truly**__ care about someone?_

_"Stay sharp, boy", he instructed with his Americanized accent. "He's strong, Stuart, but he's not the strongest. Good job on discovering your Eyes of Helios… Your Great-grandfather would be proud."_

_"Thanks a bunch, grandpa."_

_Darren became annoyed with our family bonding, and roused our offenses._

_My grandfather graced the ring with the activation of his infamous existence, Sticky Fingers. Together, we, the youngest descendants of the Von Alucard/Neumann bloodline, stood face-to-face with the renowned antagonist of the Romance of the Tainted Rose._

_"You ready, kid?" I nod to my grandfather with a delighted smile._

_"Yes, grandpa. I'm __**more**__ than ready."_

_Our battle is about to reach a __**lethal**__ level of intensity…_

…_Who will win? The heartless charmer of dead souls? Or, the combined forces of an ageless grandparent and his half-bred grandson?_

* * *

><p><em>The battle commences with a deadly blitz.<em>

**_"Seek your vengeance! Unforgiving Soul!"_**_ the snickering summoner releases a powerful exhaustion wave of ectoplasm from his stationary body. Darren becomes overworked with malice. **"DIE…!"**_

**_The enemy's first attack is a big one… Almost too big!_**

_I'm shocked beyond belief, **"Cripes! What kind of power IS that!"**_

_"The 'retarded kind'…** Heartbreak!**" my grandfather holds his left hand forward, causing something **incredible** to happen… Sticky Fingers emerges from a dimensional rift as **a colossal metallic hand!** The large leftward limb successfully stops the exhaustion wave's path of destruction, causing it to burst into a ghostly white smoke. Darren's **psyched** by my grandfather's defensive front. "That was a **'dumb shit'** move, old boy. You'll overexert yourself…and lose access to your power for a **month** with that kind of output. Here's an idea… Why not go 'toe-to-toe' with me…just like we used to in the **good** old days?"_

_The Chanter of Elegies becomes livid with my grandfather's antics, as Sticky Fingers merges back into its dimensional rift. The summoner's anger wildly rouses his ghostly aura… Great! He's alternating his stratagem… He's switching into an offensive front! That'll give me the change to close-in on him!_

_The seasoned veteran loses his patience._

**_"Grrraah…! Don't you patronize me, you filthy abomination!"_**_ Darren charges forward towards my grandfather, overlooking my involvement in the battle._

**_Great! Now's my chance!_**

_Using my innate control over the wind, I lunge forward into a charging right straight aimed at the summoner's left jaw… My fist shines with a spherical mass of sunlight, instilling an excess amount of force into my high-spirited attack._

**_"Dashing Sunlight Finger!"_**_ Darren successfully guards his face with a double-forearm block. My 'modified' Sunlight Finger's impact pushes the veteran across the canvas on the soles of his feet!_

_The **ferocious** impact forces Darren against the ropes with so much **power**…so much **pressure**…that the ropes **snap** off of their linking! I forcefully drive my former mentor out of the ring with the repulsive force of my Dashing Sunlight Finger!_

**_"Take this, you heartless scumbag!" _**_utilizing every inch of my physical strength, I grab onto the killer's throat with a throttling right grip!_

**_"GAHCK!"_**_ he chokes, holding onto my glowing hand in an attempt to free himself._

**_"YAAH!"_**_ I single-handedly lift the murderous bastard over my head with brute force._

_Using the power of my sunlit right hand, I ferociously toss the heartless chanter **high** into the nosebleed sections above the ring! Darren's cries of pain echo throughout the arena, before his body comes to a brutal crash in the **highest** row of the arena's eastern wing – Section D, Row 200!_

**_"GAAH!"_**_ his collision causes the section to collapse in a dusty explosion, causing major damage to the sport center's property. He's unable to move at the moment, but he's able to furiously whisper under his breath. "I can't believe it… That fat-nosed **mutt **is capable of such **monstrous** physical strength? **Inconceivable!**"_

_I ride the wind down to the center of the ring. My grandfather tips the brim of his hat, concealing his proud leer. I turn on my heel and smile at the old timer's suave nature._

_"What's up with you, grandpa? Attempting to look 'cool'?"_

_"Nah, just proud of my grandson", my grandfather congratulates me, as I walk past him._

_"Don't congratulate me, yet, grandpa."_

_"Yeah, I know…" the old man tilts the brim of his hat upward, as he gazes upon the image of a staggered Darren. Grandpa Christopher lowers his head and suavely hides his humored grin. "…That old geezer's not giving up without a fight… You **sure** you want your friends in here, kid?"_

_"I'm way ahead of you, grandpa", I look to my fiancé standing with Johnny and the Lost Boyz near the Titantron. I elevate my voice to speak clearly to them. "Lost Boyz, please, get those two out of here! We're going to put an end to this old fool's rampage once and for all… And trust me, it's **not** going to be a pretty sight!"_

_The thought of our engaging in such a horrible skirmish highly upsets my fiancé._

"But, Stuart…!" panics my boy.

**_I yell to my boy with tears in my eyes, "Damien, please! Save the backtalk and get out of here, now!"_**

_Damien looks into my eyes, seeing how worried I am._

_"Stuart…" his voice becomes heavy._

_My fiancé's terrified. Damien doesn't want to lose me, but he has no choice in the matter… His power level's **not strong enough** to challenge a **monster** like the Chanter of Elegies._

_I want him to live…even if this battle claims my life._

_"Stuart, let me stay with you…" my boy's beginning to cry._

_"No, I can't do that right now. There isn't much time… Leave this place with your life, dear."_

_"…Promise me that you'll come back", my boy's sad face touches my British-bred heart with love._

_"…I promise, Damien…I'll come back – me…and Grandpa Christopher will come back to you."_

_Damien looks to my grandfather, noticing his approving smile._

_"Looking forward to spending some time with you, kid", my grandfather winks at my boy with a sophisticated smirk. "Get on out of here, DC. Good ole' Grandpa Chris ain't gonna let nothin' happen to ya man. Otherwise, I wouldn't be a good granddad, right?"_

**_"DAMN YOU!" _**_Darren's finally surfaced to his feet. Everyone faces the eastern nosebleed second, alerted by his towering echo. The chanter gazes upon us with a raging ghostly aura. "**You…**insolent, wretched, **insignificant** **radicals!** I'll curse you **all**… **I'LL CURSE EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU TO YOUR DEATHS!**"_

_His roused aura's growing…and dismembersthe rooftop's bolting with every fleeting second!_

**_"RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH…!"_**

_He's gone mad! Darren's going to **destroy** the entire arena! _

**_"Get out of here, now!"_**_ I yell to my friends, sending them away into a chase for survival._

_My grandfather looks up, beholding the chanter's monstrous descending! Darren stomps his feet into the canvas, causing the entire ring to cave in! We leap into the air, escaping lethal injury!_

**_Our eyes widen at the sight of a shocking level of property damage!_**

**_"Cripes! He's just totaled the entire floor!"_**_ I swear in awe of Darren's **inhuman** display of physical muscle. The old man's just **smashed** the entire ring to **shambles**. But, that's not all. His stomp's placed a **wide** **crater** in the arena floors. I suddenly remember something **very** **vital** to the sport center's foundation. "**Blast!** If he pushes **too deep**, this entire place will **explode**!"_

**_"Run that by me, again…?"_**_ shrieks my grandfather._

_"This arena's built over **tons** of high-tech machinery, grandpa… This isn't good at all!"_

_"Shit!I forgot about that…" our landing's a rough one. Our momentum forces us to skid on the soles of our shoes. We come to a halt after two seconds of sliding, kneeling to keep our balance. My grandfather stands to his feet. "…**Tch!** I **knew** he picked this place for a good reason. That sly little **shit** had us going the entire time."_

_I stand as well, relieving myself of my designer dress shirt, "I haven't the time for any more of his **meaningless** games… I'm **going** back to my boy, and I'm taking **you** with me. I have **so many things** that I want to experience with you, grandpa…one of them including you as an **important** member of my wedding party… So, let's end this bloody charade, grandpa… **As a family**."_

_My grandfather gives me a silent response, adding a hint of his seasoned charm._

_Grandpa tosses his big black hat over his right shoulder and relieves himself of his trench coat, revealing his athletically sculpted upper body. Together, we toss our tops to the ground, standing before the image of the approaching summoner… Darren comes to a halt several paces away from us; his eyes ferociously shine with burning bloodlust._

_"Stuart Alexander Bennett and his grandfather, Christopher Oswald Bennett. Or, should I say 'Christopher Osvaldo von Alucard'?"_

_"Either way, old man…you're in for a **major** ass-whoopin'", my grandfather's ghostly aura excites as a silver flame upon his solid frame. My aureole shows its true brilliance, glowing upon my skin as a vivid solar flare. Grandpa Christopher grabs his right wrist, and cracks his knuckles with a tightening of his balled right hand. "Don't hold back against this old bastard, kid… He'll **curse** you until you're swimming with the worms."_

_"I know…and I'm ready to take him on." _

_I pound my right fist into the palm of my left hand, rousing the chanter's spirit, "**Good… **I've been **waiting** for this moment – the moment you'd actually start to get **serious** with me, Stuart. Please, allow me the honor…**OF CURSING YOU TO THE PITS OF HELL!**"_

* * *

><p>"Father Jorge, are you all right in there?"<p>

_"Sí, I do just fine", answers the unveiled rudo from his cell across the hall._

"How's your head, dear?"

_"Mi cabeza hurt no more", Sister Mary Victoria approaches her cell's electrified neuro-ionic gate, feeling the mental barrier's impeding cerebral sting. The sociopath venomously leers at the sight of his comrade's pain. "You no can get close either, huh? Fallback, monja… You get **big shock** to cerebrales if you persist."_

The beautiful vestal takes a step back, manually escaping the neuro barrier's mental sting.

Her head's a little light after suffering such prolonged cerebral shock. Victoria retreats to her bed's soft cushion, giving her mentally exhausted body a moment to relax.

_"Thanks for the **late** warning"_, the vestal's belly begins to growl. Victoria quivers in hunger, wondering when their next meal will be. She feels her empty stomach, feeling that she's lost a little weight. "_Ugh!_ It feels like we're going to _perish_ in this godforsaken place… I know you feel the same way, Father Jorge."

_"**No**...Jorge **like** death **very much**", the insane clergyman's hissing snicker fills the vestal with repelled nervousness. Father Jorge comfortably lounges in his bed, resting his chin upon his folded arms. "…You have good talk with Jorge, monja?"_

"Yes… I always enjoy your company, Father Jorge", fibs the beautiful nun with a forged smile.

_"Dígame algo, monja…" the rudo's inquisitive nature attracts the vestal's attention. "…Why you attack los gringos Matusalén? You have 'bad blood' with Los Bandolreos, hmm?"_

The vestal shakes her head, "Mm-mm, I've put that behind me."

_"You lie, monja!" the sociopathic rudo's keen insight freezes the sister with intimidation. The unmasked Hunico's serpentine gaze burns a hole of guilt in Victoria's heart. "Why you no tell Jorge truth, Victoria? You no like me anymore, mami? You no like when Jorge **pounce** in sweet gatito…l**ike Terrence never could?**"_

The repulsed sister remains silent, recalling her former relationship with the sociopathic rudo.

"That was over a hundred years ago", Victoria looks at the lascivious clergyman with an iron glare.

_"Sí, lo recuerdo… Monja **dump** Jorge…because I **too** **much** to handle."_

"_No_, I _dumped_ you because your _'prized little member'_ has a _higher _IQ than _you_ do", Father Jorge kisses at the vestal, making the beautiful sister turn her back to him. Sister Mary Victoria folds her arms in a light fit of antipathy. "**_Ugh!_**_ Honestly_…I don't mean to be rude, but I'm not one to _'join'_ with _senseless deviants_ like you."

_"**Ha!** I no waste time with **silly** **monja**", Father Jorge rolls onto his back, resting his head on his right forearm. Thoughts of my boy's naked image rouses the sociopath's sexual impulse … Jorge ravenously licks his covetous fangs, caressing his abdominals with a gentle left hand. His body's becomes hot with suppressed yearning. "**Mmm**,** sí…** I have **'new** **pequeño amante'** in mind."_

"Who's the _unlucky_ _victim_ this time, old man?"

_"You know…**mi chico muy sensual**…**Damián Crosse**?" the mentioning of my fiancé's name sets the vestal into a state of outrage. Father Jorge's imagination gets the best of him. His free hand lowers from his abdominals… And covetously trails over the thick, form-fitted bulge at the front of his pants. He closes his eyes, perversely whispering to his mental image of my boy's mesmerizing nakedness. "Sé que es muy malo, papi… **Mmm…**Jorge know it is **very** **wrong**, **indeed**… But I find a way to **get** you, **my little gatito dulce**. Jorge **free** you of useless novio…and **take** you for himself!"_

_The disgusted sister fiercely eyes her perverse comrade, "He's engaged to Mr. Bennett, you sick **pervert**!"_

_"Sí...tiene un **problema con eso?**" the sociopath eyes the vestal with a spiteful leer._

_"Of **course** I have a **'problem'** with that! I'm **well** aware that you're **infamous** for 'playing in the dirt'… But, I **never** – not for a split **second** – would've thought you'd let something like **that** come out of your **grimy little mouth!**"_

_Father Jorge sticks his tongue at the beautiful vestal, repulsing her with his childish antics._

_Victoria releases a sour breath of revulsion, "**Ugh!** Honestly, you **really** need to grow up!"_

_An awkward silence occurs from the new few minutes._

_It's every now and then that old couples get into arguments… But, in the case of Father Jorge and Sister Mary Victoria – they just can't seem to get along. How unfortunate… A demented sociopath and a bitter old girlfriend locked up in the same jailhouse._

__I say! T**hat's** quite the **disturbing** natural disaster – makes my **current** situation look like a walk in the park… Hmm! Oh, what the hell…I throw in the towel to that notion.__

* * *

><p><em>The second round begins…<em>

_Darren excites his ghostly aura, lunging forward into a **pivotal** first attack! My grandfather and I return his aggression with a corresponding gesture – fiercely charging towards the approaching terrorist! As the building **quakes** from the intensity of our combined territories, our stampeding powers meet with cataclysmic collision…_

_…Our lateral fists shoot forward, forcing Darren into a strong crossed forearm defense!_

_The chanter loses his patience, once again, **"To hell with you!"**_

_His anger rouses a monstrous expansion of his ghostly aura, repulsing our bodies upward to the highest level of the arena's western wing – Section A, Row 200! My grandfather and I crash into the benches; our bodies digging into its metal foundation with minor bodily injuries… Wait a second now!_

**_You mean to tell me that…I'm still alive…?_**

_"Grandpa…**why**…aren't we dead?" I grunt within my intense bodily pain._

_"Shit like this **can't kill** a person with chiropteran genetics", we stand to our feet, looking down at the grounded chanter from the western nosebleed section. I loosen my right shoulder muscles with a rotating of my arm. "You're not all human, kid. That would've took out any normal man, but you ain't normal… You've going to have to get that through your head, boy."_

_"Thanks, grandpa…I'll take your advice to heart."_

_Darren becomes irascibly livid with our chatty dawdling._

**_"QUIT GAWKING AT ME FROM THE NOSEBLEEDS, YOU DAWDLING INGRATES!"_**_ fiercely roars the grounded chanter. **"GET DOWN HERE AND FACE ME, NOW!" **_

_Grandpa wittily whistles at the chanter's anger, "…You're just **itchin'** for a good old **switchin'**, ain't ya, **Chrissie-Poo?**"_

_My grandfather and I leap over the nosebleeds' railing, riding gallantly upon a wild airstream…_

_…We come to a safe landing on the ground, as our airstream breaks into a light breeze. Darren looks at my grandfather with furious eyes._

_"Did you just call me **'Chrissie-Poo'**, you block-nosed simpleton **bastard** of an abomination?"_

_"What's wrong, Chrissie-Poo…?" giggles my sarcastic elder. "…Left your box of **'Tampax Pearls'** on the kitchen sink? Or…are you just **mad**, **girlfriend**?"_

_The chanter lowers his head with a silent fury, "…**What** did you just **say**…?"_

_"We've the right to call you **a lot** of things, old man", my grandfather remains silent, allowing me to take the center stage. I proceed with a long list of derogatory names that describes my former mentor. "...Liar, pig, scumbag, bastard, jackass, arse hole, son of a bitch, shithead, arse wipe, insatiable slut, cum spitter, deadbeat, heartless jackal, chicken shit, flimsy little bitch…"_

**_My grandfather's dying in knee-slapping laughter, "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!"_**

_Darren's fists ball with silent rage, as I continue on, "…Gutter slut, windbag, camel chops, canker nuts, lowlife, vaginal mistake, demon seed, turd licker, piss guzzler, and my all-time favorite – **an** **unsightly, brainless, GUTLESS PIECE OF HORSE SHIT!**"_

**_"SHUT UP!"_**_ his anger surfaces as a raging ghostly flame on his left arm._

_Darren's pissed off – **more** than he's **ever** been in his **entire** life…_

_"…This is the final round. The moment that I take your lives…**IS NOW!**"_

_Our auras excite for the final bout…_

_…Who will win this **deadly** game of "supernatural chess"? The chivalrous descendants of the legendary protagonist, Lord Frederic von Alucard…or the fabled antagonist – White Album, the Chanter of Elegies?_

* * *

><p><em>The entrance to MS House 8 opens.<em>

_The lounging Father Jorge eyes the opening gate with hungry jaws, "**Mmm**...la cena está aquí."_

_Sister Sarona enters the scene with a cart of finely prepared meals. The first thing she sees is the vestal's disgusted body language… The Samoan beauty's tickled by such a sour welcome._

_"**Ha!** What's crawled up **your** gown, Vickie?" Sister Sarona hands the vestal her meal through the ionic gate's metallic slot. Victoria looks at the sociopath across the hall with a seeping gaze of annoyance. The Samoan beauty turns on her heel, and is greeted by the ravenous image of a jaw-licking Jorge. Sister Sarona cringes. "**Eww!** Forget I asked… I think I won't be ordering **Mexican food** for a **couple** of years."_

_Victoria's tickled by the Methuselah's wry sense of humor, "**Ha-ha-ha-ha…!** Thanks, I **needed** good laugh."_

Sarona notices Jorge fondling his bulging girth, and is disgusted by it.

"And cut that shit out! Nobody wants to see you _'playin' with your Little Jimmy'_!", the eccentric rudo sticks his tongue at the femme Methuselah, receiving a _terrifying,_ icy cold stare._"Straighten up that ugly face of yours, Arias… **Or I'll rip that little Mexican microchip of yours into a mass of taco meat!**"_

_Sarona's snappy threat causes the sociopathic rudo to feel 100-times **smaller** in penis size._

_"Mmm! Cómo violentos de que", the unmasked clergyman's reaction sets the girls in a fit of humored laughter. Jorge folds his arms in a fit of mortification. "Why you cacarea brujitas! No es tan divertido!"_

_"Yes, it is!" comically cheers the sniggling beauties._

**_"Grr…! I spit on your life!"_**_ spits the offended rudo, turning his back to the cackling dames._

After having fun at the perverted rudo's expense, the girls engage in a little dialog.

"So, what's on the menu today?" the vestal eyes her tray, excited to see what's inside. "Is it something _fried_? Something _stewed_? Something _baked_?"

_"Open it up, silly", Sister Mary Victoria lifts her lid, as Sarona serves Father Jorge his tray. Her beautiful brown eyes widen at the sight of a delicious plate of roast beef with stewed potatoes and perfectly seasoned collard greens. At the side is a glass of freshly-brewed kiwi-strawberry juice. The overjoyed sister feels like she's going to cry. "It's a reward for your good behavior. Despite Jo's little sexual outburst, you guys don't give us any problems… So, **I** took the liberty of preparing these meals for you"_

_Jorge opens his tray to see a enchanting plate of smoked turkey cuts over mashed potatoes, sweet peas and buttered corn on the cob._

"So, what do you think, _'Rico Suave'_?"

_Jorge looks up to the proud cook with a delighted smile, "Jorge get fat for you now, yes?"_

"Sister Sarona delightedly cups her hands with joy, "_Hee-hee!_ I'll take that as a _'thank you'_."

"How's Katherine and the others doing?" the beautiful vestal asks, before she begins her dining experience. She tries her roast beef, and is _mesmerized_ by its savory blend of herbs and spices. _"Mmm-mm-mm! This has to be the **best** roast beef I've ever tasted!"_

Sister Sarona suddenly switches to a very serious mood.

_"…Katherine's party is going toe-to-toe with White Album", her words freeze the inmates with a surge of fear. "I just received an HUD memo from Brother Kevin. The situation's starting to become **really** messy."_

_"What happened, Ronnie? Tell us, please."_

_"It's not looking very pretty, Vickie…", Father Jorge's anger is silently roused by the Methuselah's next set of words. "…Father Christian's relentless assault has killed 24 people…and has left 14 with near-fatal injuries. He fooled the party with promises of killing one of our operatives – a youthful Strigoi named Jonathan Curtis."_

_"What is this 'Strigoi'?" asks Father Jorge._

_"…An immortal vampire that **cannot** die – **that** is a Strigoi", Sister Sarona looks into the rudo's worried eyes, realizing that he's harboring hidden emotions. "Don't worry, big buy… **Damien** will be just fine."_

_Jorge's struck with shock, "How…how **you** know about that? You read Jorge's **mind**?"_

"It's no secret, dear. _Everyone_ knows you've got the _hots_ for DC. It's written all over your face, Jo… But, you know it's _wrong_…don't you?"

_Father Jorge lowers his head in a silent mixture of embarrassment and sadness._

The beautiful vestal attempts to sympathize with her comrade, "...Hey, Jo."

_"¿Qué es, monja?"_

"She's right, you know… If you attempt to _interfere_ in his relationship, knowing _well_ that he's happy the way he is…you'll _destroy_ your ties with him."

"That's something that you _can't_ get back with a simple _'I'm sorry'_, Jo", Father Jorge's beginning to silently shed tears. The beautiful Methuselah lowers her voice to a sisterly tone. _"Cheer up, old man. You really don't know how good you've got it with him."_

_"It **no** good enough for Jorge!" the clergyman's voice has become wet with mournful desolation._

_"…But it's the best place for you, Jo. You're not well in the head. According to your profile, you've been like that since the Spanish-American War…when your father…"_

_"Don't remind him, Ronnie", politely interferes the vestal, looking at how triggered her comrade is._

_"You're right…I should leave it alone", the Samoan beauty says a silent prayer for the lovesick inmate, pierces her chest with a cross, and turns on her heel. She gives a few parting words. "I'm going to go for my second circuitry tuning. N'Dour's starting to get the hang of things… You know, it's funny…"_

_Father Jorge looks up and sees the beautiful Methuselah beaming a gentle smile at him._

_"…N'Dour's in love with Damien, too", the mourning rudo's eyes widen with shock. Sister Sarona turns her back to the inmates, ending her visitation with a few sarcastic words of wisdom. "**Ha!** It seems like **all** men need to learn how to keep their hands to themselves. You two 'lovesick puppies' are skating on **thin** ice… Take a **woman's** advice – keep your dick in your pants, and stay **away** from Stuart's fiancé. You'll do **more** than lose a friend. Stuart's not called 'the great white shark' for nothing. Once you've been snagged by his 'fatal bite'…it's 'all over and goodnight' for you… Keep your head up, **lover boy**."_

_Sister Sarona excuses herself from the jailhouse._

_"Hey, monja…" the beautiful vestal gives the shamed rudo her undivided attention. "…Victoria…is it **really** that bad…? Having feelings for Damián bad, yes?"_

_"Yes and no."_

_"What you mean by that, monja?"_

_Victoria takes a sip of her drink, "Ah... Yes – because you care about him and want to make him happy. No – because he's taken by another man. Stealing him away will soil any credit you've built with Mr. Crosse **and** Mr. Bennett. You don't want to risk something like that."_

_Father Jorge dismisses the situation, "Yes…you right, monja. Jorge is being too greedy. I stop now."_

_"I'm glad you've come to your senses."_

_But, he's far from giving up._

_Father Jorge's sociopathic tendencies get the best of him, ("Hmm! These locas brujitas think they talk Jorge from love? I show them – I break from la cárcel and **take** Damián for self! But...Jorge need good plan to get out… What can Jorge do? Hmm…")_

_A vicious idea suddenly comes to mind, but he shows no indicating body language._

__("Ah, sí, muy bueno plan come to mind… I do that and **escape** Cárcel de la Infinidad. Blind radicales estúpidos don't know…**building is** **over ashy ground**.")__

_It's true… The Infinity HQ's a reconditioned foundation that once belonged to a rich family of aristocrats._

_Father Jorge plots to use the ashes buried underneath the building to escape. But, can he really access his existence when he's being mentally hindered by Father Andrew's technology?_

___If so, when…and how will he pull it off?___

* * *

><p><em>The J.P. McCartney Sports Center's shaking apart, minute by minute, second by second…<em>

_Nattie, TJ, Steve, Raj, JoMo, Johnny, and the Lost Boyz are standing just outside of the building, feeling our territories' massive expansion power. It's **colossal** – fitting of the ranks of an **SSS Class** existence user… **Only** Count Valdo von Dracula's reached the "SSS rank" in his lifetime, and his many followers are ranked amongst the S and SS Class. The entire Church is a deadly force to be reckoned with…but Count Valdo gives **a** **new** **meaning** to the word "nightmare"._

_"I thought that only the count could invoke such monumental power", everyone nods in agreement with Stephen's notion. His ghostly briars surface onto his right forearm, mentally alerting him of an oncoming presence. He looks forward to see my boy's party headed in their direction. "Looks like Stu's sent us some more evacuees."_

_The Lost Boyz have successfully escorted my fiancé and our stable partner out of the quaking sports center._

_Damien runs into Natalie's embrace, making the vampiress smile, "Whoa! What's gotten you in such a touchy-feely mood today?"_

_"He's scared", Cena's words grasp the vampiress's attention. John lowers his head, suavely holding onto the brim of his cap with his right index finger and thumb. The thought of the battle's level of intensity is beginning to bother him. "DC's man and future kin are locked in battle with one of the Church's most **powerful** clergymen… It'll be a miracle if this building survives this. The entire arena's falling apart."_

_A section of the arena's rooftop collapses!_

_Everyone turns to the sight of the crumpling foundation, in awe of the devastating events._

_"The roof's already starting to give", Damien balls his right fist in a fit of anger. All attention is turned to the sight of my fiancé running forward. He comes to a halt after seven paces, pumps his arms in mournful ire, and yells at the top of his lungs, hoping that his message reaches my ears. **"Damn it, Stuart! You 'Bennetts' all the same – all you like to do is fight, fight, fight, and fight some more! …You'll even risk your life in a battle that you probably can't win…just to** **save someone… Even if it kills you, Stuart, Grandpa Chris…** **Even**…even…if you die…"_

_Damien falls to his knees in tears, unable to take the emotional strain._

_Hennigan attempts to approach my boy, but Stephen stops him with a gentle right arm._

_"I've got this, fella", the wise Irish nightwalker approaches my grounded fiancé. Exercising his brotherly muscle, the big man helps my boy to his feet, taking Damien in with a warm set of arms. Stephen sympathetically speaks hope into his joking buddy's lamenting heart. "There now, lad… Dry up those eyes of yours. Stu's too **bullheaded** to just die on us, and his granddad's the same way… Day-Day, you've got yourself a stubborn bastard of a fiancé – so stubborn that he'd rather have a building **collapse** before his very eyes, than to see **you** dead under a pile of rubble… He'll come back, little fella. It's up to us to **believe** – to have **faith** in the power of your man and his grandfather…just as **they** believe that they'll return to us in the end. It goes both ways, Day-Day. Until he comes back, I…no…**we** won't let you go."_

_All of our friends come to Damien's aid, supporting him in his time of fear._

_"Stevie, everyone…I…" our ginger bud shushes my boy, gently petting his back in a fathering manner._

_"Hush yourself for a while, lad… You've had a rough month. Be silent for a spell, and let good ol' Stevie squeeze the fear and pain out of ya… Sounds nice, little fella?"_

_Damien embraces our friend's strong midsection in tearful delight, "…Thank you, everyone. …I'm so glad to have all of you in my life. …You're such an amazing group of people. You're like my brothers and sisters – a little family that's always around the corner… I'd **gladly** relieve these past experiences, if I could do them again with the lot of you. Sure, we've had our share of tears and fears, but I woke up every morning knowing that I'd see your smiling faces… Nattie, TJ, Raj, JoMo, Stevie…our new friends – the Lost Boyz, the Highwaymen, Father Andrew, and especially you, Johnny… I wouldn't trade **any** of you, even if the richest man in the world offered me a better life. I…**I love every single last one of you!**"_

_"We love you too, little fella", our friends are touched by Damien's heartfelt revelation. Stephen's heart becomes warm with a newfound affection for my boy… When a vampire claims his loved ones, he does it with the deepest of affections. "You'll never have to cry, again, lad… Your big brothers and sisters will protect you until your man comes back. **All** the people standing before you… We'll always have your back, and we'll **always** be there for you, Day-Day. Now, hush yourself, little fella... Stu and Chris should see **smiling** faces when they come out, not a bunch of teary frowns."_

_Damien looks up into Stephen's warm baby blues, realizing how much he's grown on the old man._

_Everyone feels the same… These people and many more have stood by our side, lending their hand in a battle to end a blinded prejudice. Vampire, Dhampir, Methuselah, Crusnik, Strigoi, Human – all should live together in peace, not war. There's far too many people dying to begin with._

_Where's the good in killing off a race for a selfish reason?_

_What reward is there to gain from that? Freedom? Hope? Survival? Peace? A temporal calm?_

_There exists no victory in another's death. It's humanly impossible to feel a true sense of satisfaction in killing another… But, our assailants aren't human._

_They are the living dead children of the night. They're the fabled beasts that take human form – the vampire… Though they've intentionally split into two opposing sides, my boy and I being active members of one of them…these mythical creatures are **far** more lurid **and** ferocious than **any** man could **ever** imagine._

____Darren's current endeavors have proven that theory to be **frighteningly** accurate.____

* * *

><p><em>At this very moment, the reputation of the WWE has been <strong>tragically<strong> **soiled**… Darren – I mean, **"Father Christian"**… His actions have done **so much more** than kill off a few innocent people._

**_Millions_**_ of dollars in property damages._

_Emotionally **and** psychologically traumatizing a **large** mass of people._

**_Premeditated_**_ domestic violence **and** disturbing the peace._

**_Intentional_**_ genocide and terrorism._

_…But most of all, he's made my boy **cry**. He's broken the hearts of **so many people** that referenced him as "a future legend" since day 1. The clergyman had **so much** going for him, but he **purposely threw it all away**…for the affections of a faceless dictator. It's horribly sad **and catastrophically pathetic** at the same time._

_The chanter continues his monstrous assault with an offensive blitz._

**_"Get up! False Idols!"_**_ the mad clergyman spiritually rouses the ashes underneath the foundation, calling forth another onslaught of spherical apparitions._

_My grandfather goes into the defensive, **"Jaded Embrace!"**_

_Sticky Fingers emerges as two large metallic hands, large enough to gather the False Idols volley attack into a large cluster of ectoplasm… The chanter's psyched by my grandfather's defensive front, once again!_

_"What the…? That's **impossible**! **How can this be…?**"_

**_"Oh, Chrissie-Poo…!"_**_ teasingly calls my grandfather, catching the chanter's attention. "…Lookie here, girlfriend! I've got a **present** for ya, **and it's coming right at ya! First class delivery style!**"_

_Sticky Fingers tosses the collected volley right back at the grounded chanters, merging back into its dimensional rift shortly after its epic pitch._

_Father Christian's frozen with fear, "In...**inconceivable**! **What kind of power is this…?**"_

**_My grandfather rallies my half-bred blood with an adrenaline filled war-cry, "Sonny Boy! Synchronize your sunlight with the volley at maximum power! Hurry!"_**

_This is it… This could very well be the **deciding** **factor** of this bloodstained clash!_

**_Very well! No more of these bloody games! It's time to get serious!_**

**_(***Group Image Song – "Invincible" by Pat Benatar***)_**

**_My holy aureole surfaces onto my skin as a vibrant miniature supernova remnant!_**

_My half-bred blood **boils** with an amazing mixture of **righteous** **fury** and **epic** **gallantry**, **"Alright, Paradise City! Shine! Shine brighter than the sun itself!"**_

_Father Christian's terrified by the epic exciting of my sunlit territory._

_My voice epically roars like a righteous pride of lions, **"RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH…!"**_

_Paradise City's **overwhelming** **territory** pushes against the cowering chanter's stationary frame, forcing him to his knees!_

**_"Such…strength…!"_**_ Father Christian's pinned to the ground, and is violently pushed away by the returned volley's repulsing force. **"GAAH…!"**_

_The cowardly chanter lands on the ground, rolling back several times, as the returned volley **crashes** into the walls of the northern wing at his rear. Father Christian comes to a rough stop, being pinned to the ground by Paradise City's **devastating** gravitational push._

**_"Grr…BLAST IT ALL!"_**_ swears the chanter, unable to move from his grounded position._

_My grandfather measures the expansion of my supernova remnant, realizing that it's time to unleash the final blow. Grandfather Christopher rallies my spirit with **courageous** **flare**._

**_"Now! Release the light, kid!"_**_ cheers my excited grandfather._

_The final attack is epically cast with a deciding level of power._

**_"Alright! 5000-Degree…Sunlight…FINGER…!"_**_ **I shoot my right fist forward,** **unleashing** **a mammoth-sized version of my signature attack**. Father Christian holds his hands forward, attempting to defend himself with a strong barrier of ectoplasm! **Oh, no don't! You're not getting off that easily!** **"DIE, YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD!"**_

**_My 5000-Degree Sunlight Finger makes devastating impact with the chanter's ghostly defense!_**

**_"AAAHHH…!"_**_ the clergyman's struggling to keep afoot! Father Christian's being slid back on the soles of his boots **so roughly**, that **trailblaze** is left in his tracks!_

_His body's lifted off the ground by my sunray's **massive** pushing power; however, he's **still** holding up his defenses. Unfortunately, his ghostly barrier…is starting to fail him._

_A crack is placed in the barrier's solid composition, and slowly begins to expand into different directions._

_His untimely end…has finally come. _

**_("Damn it all! That bloody abomination's just as strong as… He's just as strong as… Lord Valdo, please…forgive me! Your descendant…IS JUST TOO STRONG!")_**

_My sunray's pushing force **breaks** through Father Christian's ghostly defenses, and causes **a devastating explosion!** The entire northern wing's demolished… And the fabled Chanter of Elegies – a nightwalker with **a 500-year-old vendetta** against my bloodline…**is** **burned** t**o a cinder** **in the purifying flames of my existence.** However, his fate is far more grim than the Adored Twins. The reason for this change: the chanter's a vampire who's **given up his soul** in reverence to the count's dark ambitions; therefore…_

_…There's nothing to be purified. The **only** thing that awaits him…**is death.**_

_His last choice words echo throughout the entire city of Willington with resentful ire, **"DAMN YOU! A CURSE YOUR WRETCHED LIVES, YOU FILTHY ABOMINATIONS! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH….!"**_

_I calm my aureole, suddenly feeling a little dizzy, "It's over now now…but…but…"_

**_Mmm!_**_ What's this?_

_"…Why am I…**so**…lightheaded?" I'm beginning to lose my balance._

_My weakened condition sets my grandfather into a panic, **"Hang on, kid! Grandpa's on his way!"**_

_Before my body hits the ground, Grandfather Christopher takes into flight and lands right in front of me. Grandpa allows me to fall into his arms, coming to my aid with a manly embrace._

_The loving old man balances me with my left arm hanging over his shoulders. He smiles at the sight of his tuckered-out grandchild, before taking off towards the wide-opened fissure to the north. I'm carried through the large, burning exit on my grandfather's warm shoulders._

_My grandfather's holding me for the first time in his 500-plus years of existence… And it touches his old heart with a warm flame. I attempt to speak with him, as my body falls into unconsciousness._

_"…Mmm…Gran…Grand…pa…"_

_"Shh! Keep your yap closed, boy", in my lightheadedness, a smile comes to my face after hearing these words. My grandfather's voice lowers with parental vibrancy. "Good job, Sunny Boy… Grandpa's very proud of you. We're one step closer to saving the world, Stuart… By the way, do you mind if I call you 'Sunny Boy'? I think it's downright adorable, calling a big fella like you 'Sunny Boy'."_

_"Ok…Grand…pa…" tears begin to develop in my weakened eyes._

_"Hush up, boy. Let yer old granddad take you to yer little sugar… You've earned yourself a long rest."_

_"Thank…you…grand…**ugh**…" I lose consciousness, falling into a catatonic state._

_I've won my **first** **epic** **battle** at my grandfather's side._

_I'm **very** happy right now…_

_…Though I'm unresponsive and in a pathetic physical state, I'm **happy** that I experienced this with a man that's loved me…for **God** **knows** how long. I've **always** wanted to know the truth about my **father's** father – the grandfather that I've **never** seen before…until now._

_Grandpa Christopher, Grandfather Cody…it' **doesn't** **matter** anymore._

_My grandpa's the **coolest** **bloke** this side of the eastern hemisphere! A **dashing** baby-faced enigma with a natural charm that **surpasses** some of our company's **most prized** **legends**. I'm the **luckiest** grandson in the **entire** **universe**… If I were still awake, I'd say this to my grandfather…and **new** mentor._

_"I wouldn't have had this done **any** other way. I'm **glad** I got the chance to meet you, even if it's just for this one time… I hope that we can go home together…and become a closely knit family. I **love** you, grandpa… Thanks for being there at my side."_

_____The tears of a child's love for his grandparent trails from my eyes…decorating the air with a gentle glow._____

* * *

><p><em>"Hey, he's coming to!" I can hear a familiar set of masculine voices addressing me within my subconscious.<em>

**_"Hush up, ya goddamned Siamese idjits"_**_, scolds another. "You're gonna give im a headache. Pipe down."_

_"Sorry, Brother Steve."_

_"Damien, he's opening his eyes", excites a raspy-voiced woman._

_"Daddy…" a set of gentle arms embraces me. That voice… I open my eyes; my vision's blurry. However, I recognize my boy's cloudy profile with little trouble… His teary face and relieved voice becomes clearer by the second. "…Welcome back, baby. I thought you'd never wake up… I thought I was going to lose you."_

_I'm unable to speak, but I can see all of our friends standing by outside of my room's viewing window._

_Natalie, Theodore, Stephen, Yuvraj, Hennigan, Cena, Eve, Kevin, Jayson, and Johnny are here…_

_…Not only that, but the Fatu Brothers are **also** amidst the crowd. I say! This is rather odd… I thought those two hated my guts!_

_Oh, wait… I remember now._

_They've been purified by my Cruel Angelica's embrace. This must be one of the side effects… It's appears as if their **social** **outlook** has been modified… Hmm! I'm actually starting to **like** this version of the Twins._

_"Stuart, look at me…" my boy's voice grasps my attention. He plants a gentle kiss on my forehead, making me sport a handsome smile. He lightly pets my head with his left hand, and gently rubs my right arm with the other. He tries to hold back his tears, as he releases a little anger. I remain silently, humbly giving my boy a moment to vent his frustrations. "…Your crazy antics cost you a **week** in the hospital, you silly brute. I'm angry with you, Stuart…but… I'm just… Don't you **dare** leave me again. Do you **hear** me?"_

_"…Okay…"_

_"Oh, Stuart…" my weeping boy places his head next to me, planting a sweet peck on my right cheek._

_Stephen quietly closes my viewing window's curtain by pulling on its rope._

_"I think it's best to give them some time alone", everyone nods in agreement to his notion, as the ginger closes my door to give us a little more privacy. Stephen leans against the wall next to Natalie's seat, folding him arms like the charming old timer that he is. "They ain't even married yet, and the honeymoon's already beginning. Hmm! Gotta love these 'new-age couples', eh?"_

_Our friends laugh at the notion, but the conversation's soon switched to a more curious mode. _

_"So, how's Father Chris doing, Boss Lady?" asks the inquisitive leader of the Lost Boyz._

_"Oh, he's fine… After the battle, he sent me an E-Mail saying that he's heading off to 'deal with some important affairs' at our Barcelona Branch."_

_"Mother Wendy's probably going to **beg** him to join our ranks for **the** **umpteenth** **time**", Jayson's little crack at the Mother of the Barcelona Branch tickles the crowd. The Nubian Methuselah folds his arms, realizing that they didn't get a taste of the action at the sports center. "**Man**, I'm kind of disappointed. I sure would've **loved** to go toe-to-toe with Father Christian. That adrenaline rush…! **Woo**, that was **''**, baby!"_

_Our group's tickled by the flamboyant cyborg's choice of words._

_"That's true…" Brother Kevin agrees with that idea; however, he acts professional and states the obvious. "…**But**, we would've just gotten in the way. That was an '**SSS Class'** battle. Methuselahs are ranked among the **long** list of **A Class** fighters. We're strong, that's true… But, that was a battle that we **couldn't** have won…**even** at our strongest state. We're still human, Jay… Not even Father Andrew's **ingenious** technology can change that."_

_All of a sudden, Sister Eve gets an HUD memo. The contents set her into a state of shock._

_"Uh-oh! This isn't good!"_

_"What's wrong, Sister Eve?" questions the former queen._

_"Guys…there's been a **jailbreak** at the Rutherford Branch", everyone's alerted by the disturbing news._

_"What? Who's the escapee?"_

_"Information transmitting, Boss Lady…" Eve receives the remainder of the HUD memo's contents, and comes to a shocking answer. "…It's…Prisoner MS89012B: Father Jorge Arias."_

_"Tch! That bastard couldn't stay put for one second, could he?" Brother John looks to Infinity's foremother and makes a request. "Boss Lady, you mind if we go take care of this for you?"_

_Natalie nods, giving them her blessings, "Sure, have at it. I'll send Father Andrew a briefing about your arrival. We'll stay here and watch over Stuart. Have a safe trip, Lost Boyz."_

_"Thanks a bunch, Boss Lady", Brother John turns to his fellow Lost Boyz with a rallying spirit. "Alright, soldiers, it's time to move! Rollout, Lost Boyz!"_

_"Roger!" the Lost Boyz are dispatched for action, acting on the blessing of their supreme commander._

_Natalie lifts her head with proud expression, "…Godspeed, my friends."_

_I look out the window to my left… The Lost Boyz are ascending into the azure upon ion-powered mechanical batwings. I am **awed** by the amazing display of Father Andrew's cybernetic genius._

_My boy looks out the window, and is amazed by their epic departure, "Whoa…! That's **amazing**!"_

_Damien runs up to the window and waves to the parting team of Methuselahs. The cyborgs' A.I. units detect my fiancé's gesture. They look over their shoulders, happily absorbing my boy's distant good wishes. The Lost Boyz wave back to him, and scale the blue skies with heroic glory. I wish that I could go with them, but I'm unable to do much at the moment._

_Damien told me that I'll have to be here for another 24 hours – the allotted time needed for my brain to completely heal. Still, I'm **amazed** by how far I've come as an existence user… I'm **no longer** "a fledgling" in the eyes of my peers. I've sprouted my wings… But, **ironically**, it cost me a week in the hospital._

_I feel so useless in this state, but a little relaxation is **more** than due to me._

_Having overheard the conversation outside, I can picture it now…_

_…Father Jorge's running amuck at headquarters like a madman. I bet he's already taken a few lives, probably leaving Victoria behind to exact his selfish motives… I wonder what's happening… My curiosity's eating away at my patience._

_"Sweets…" my boy turns around, noticing my curious glare. "…You think…they'll…be okay?"_

_Damien leaves the window and returns to my bed, "Don't worry about them, dear. Jo's a powerful existence user, but I'm **sure** he'll prove to be nothing more than a **nuisance** to our comrades."_

_My speaking's clearer now… I guess I should apologize to my boy._

_"I'm…sorry…" my head tingles with a hint of pain._

_"Shh! Don't worry yourself, love", he plants a warm kiss on my lips, putting an end to my excess worrying. My fiancé pets my mane with a light touch, smiling lovingly at my helpless profile. "…I can't wait for all of this to be over, Stuey. I want to marry you as soon as possible."_

_"Me…too…"_

_"Now didn't I tell you to hush up, Daddy?" my boy climbs into bed with me, mounting his hips onto my torso. With a warm glare in his eyes, Damien shows me his engagement ring. "I haven't taken it off since you faded into a coma. Grandpa Chris told me to take care of you, before he left three days ago."_

_"Where…is he?"_

_"Barcelona, Spain. He called this morning and gave me a **ton** of updates... He said that the branch's commander, Mother Wendy Darling, wanted to speak with him about something. Also, all WWE personnel involved during the incident, mainly the commentator team, will be under Infinity's surveillance until further notice… Everything's fine, love. Your gramps will be back soon, so don't you worry yourself so much. You deserve a break, so try not to strain yourself so much. Okay?"_

_"…I…love you…" a tear drops from my left eye, as my face animates with a loving smile._

_"I love you, too", my boy leans forward and gives me a passionate kiss._

_I find enough strength to lift my arms up, placing them around his midsection._

_Though my embrace is weak, it's packed with a lot of sincerity…_

_…My boy's the most important person in the world to me. He finally understand –I'd willingly put my life at risk for him at the drop of a dime. The act scared him, yes…but it's brought us closer together as a couple… My reward: a tender kiss that drains me of unnecessary apprehension._

______We enjoy some of the sweetest minutes of our lives, basking in the gentleness of each other's warm touch.______

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><p><em>Infinity HQ's Maximum Security Ward is currently in a state of alert… One of the Ward's most dangerous inmates has made an escape from his cell.<em>

Father Jorge waited until _the witching hour_ to exact his dastardly motives... The grounds underneath his cell _animated_ with a thick mist, _and his body faded into the shadows…_ Father Jorge's power is at its _peak_ during the 12:00 AM timeslot. The witching hour gave him _more_ than enough power needed for an unlawful escape. Sister Mary Victoria silently prays that he finds his way to safety in one piece; however, she knows that it's _more_ than likely he'll be caught halfway through his escape.

_Currently, the unmasked rudo's hastily heading towards the southern wing._

_His heart's beating with a rush of adrenaline. His race for freedom has set him into a state of mental hysteria… He turns the corner, and runs by his brother's empty office._

_("Mi máscara…I must get it back") the sociopath runs into the room and digs through his brother's office desk. The first thing he sees is his decorated mask. ("…Muy bueno! Now, Jorge take leave from stupid cárcel!")_

_Father Jorge leaves the office, continuing his escape. The ringing siren echoes throughout the entire prison, constantly reminding the masked escapee that trouble awaits at **every** turn._

_("Mi hermano tell of office in Rutherford… I wonder why he say this, after Jorge do terrible thing. I no blame radicales if they catch Jorge, but I still fight to death!")_

**_All of a sudden, the escapee runs into a dual image of impending trouble._**

_Jorge skids to a halt, being barricaded by the presence of the dashing gunslinger, Brother Heath, and the refined swordsman, Brother Paul… The lounging band of two leisurely tinkers with their M.B. Access Cards._

_Brother Paul twirls his card across the lining of his finger pits. Brother Heath tosses his card into the air, catching it single-handedly… Together, the Methuselahs shoot Father Jorge an **intense** ogle._

_"You hear that siren, Arias?" Brother Heath grasps the rudo's attention with a serpentine grin._

_"When the bell tolls, we grace the scene and **cause** **trouble**…for people like you", Brother Paul inserts his M.B. Access Card into the metallic slot in his cybernetic right arm._

_Brother Heath does the same._

_Their slots close, allowing the memory built into their access cards to register in their A.I. units. Brother Paul draws his technologically enhanced katana from his trench coat, balancing it like a can with his right hand. Brother Heath cracks his knuckles, ready to throw down with the escapee if need be._

_Father Jorge places his máscara on his head, readying himself for battle._

_"You no intimidate Jorge, Matusalenes!" the sociopathic rudo, once again, dons his flamboyant mask._

_"Who said **anything** about 'intimidating you', bro?" snickers Brother Heath._

_"It's not a matter of **instilling fear**…" Brother Paul stands at his comrade's side, creating a two-man front. Their existences are silently activated – Brother Paul's **Illusion** bears its storming rose petals; Brother Heath's **Sex Pistols** emerge as a set of ghostly handguns. "…It's to prove why we're Infinity's **new** ace duo. If you thought **Rocky Hurricane** was a force to be reckoned with…"_

_"…Wait until you 'dance' with **'Infinity's #1 demolition team', baby boy**!" excites Brother Heath._

_Father Jorge stands ready for battle, as the Methuselahs announce their team name._

_"We are 'the Bloodbrothers of Supremacy, **Guns N' Roses**'! **Get ready to the face the pain!**"_

_Brother Heath aims his ghostly firearms at his the trapped escapee. Brother Paul leaps into the air, flying over Father Jorge's head… The nimble Methuselah lands firmly on his feet, turns on his heel and stands strongly in a polished tachi-ai formation. Infinity HQ's prized "Bloodbrothers of Supremacy" – the renowned duo, Guns N' Roses – has cornered the escapee… But, the masked warrior's no ordinary inmate._

_"I take your life, Matusalenes estúpidos gringos!" a thick mist emerges from Father Jorge's opened palms, blanketing the entire area with a blinding haze._

_What will become of their confrontation? Will Guns N' Roses successfully detain the hostile escapee? Or, will the Obscured One prove a match for the cybernetic duo?_

_______The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_______

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><p><strong><em><em><em><em><em><em><em>(Ending Theme – "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>______**

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><p><strong><em><em><em><em><em><em><em>(Up Next: Chapter 12 – Jailhouse Rock)<em>______**


	13. Chapter 12: Jailhouse Rock

_**[Warning from the Author: This chapter contains a little M/M sexual content in the concluding scene, so just a fair warning to my readers :) But, don't skip it – you have to read that part to know what's going to happen next. The second part of the storyline's about to begin. I've actually decided to extend the storyline to 24 chapters, so that means we're at the halfpoint now :) Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter. Take care.] **_

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><p><em><strong>BLOODNight**_

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><p><em><strong>(Opening Theme – "Heaven in the Hell" by Mizuki Nana)<strong>_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 12 – <strong>**Jailhouse Rock**_

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><p><em>The alarm sounds throughout every corner of the Rutherford Branch.<em>

Infinity HQ's security system animates the evening sky with an incessant melody. The tenants of the Hideaway House are antsy about the situation… All except for _a certain young apprentice_, who lounges peacefully in the comfort of his bedroom.

_("What idiot would __**dare**__ to break free from the MS Ward?") Brother N'Dour returned from his lab duties not too long ago, and has just finished taking a shower. He turns the page of his book, sighing a breath of annoyance. ("Geez! You'd think the Methuselahs would've arrested the escapee by now… Jailbreaks happen all the times, so what makes this one any different? Humph! Oh well, it's not like I can __**actually**__ do something about it… I just hope things run smoothly for them.")_

He reads a chapter from his mentor's latest novel, _'The Laws of Cybernetic Theory, Volume 1'_, for a scheduled examination. If he can somehow pass this test, he'll be promoted to "assistant technician"… That's one more step _closer_ to becoming _a bonified cyber-technologist_.

_("Let's see…I should make a note of this…") Brother N'Dour begins jotting down a few notes in his HP Notebook, breaking things down into simplified sentences. ("…'The word __**cybernetics**__ was first used in the context of "the study of self-governance" by __**Plato**__ in The Laws to signify the governance of people. The word __**cybernétique**__ was also used in 1834 by the __**physicist André-Marie Ampère**__ (1775–1836) to denote the sciences of government in his classification system of human knowledge.' …Hmm! This gets more and more interesting by the second.")_

He suddenly realizes that his notes are _too lengthy_ to be considered "simplified".

_("Tch! Too broad, better rearrange these later'), the young man saves his arrangement of notes in his MS Word document, closes his HP Notebook and sets his laptop underneath his bed._

Brother N'Dour lazily falls back onto his mattress, feeling a sour taste of loneliness in his jaws… My fiancé's image scrolls across his mind, filling him with wonderful thoughts.

_("He was so nice to me, but I was too much of a coward to speak up… Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I can see him standing right next to me; laughing with me; holding me and calling me 'sweetie'. I know that it was just for a few hours, but… But, I really love him. I don't need to study a 'crummy little book' to know that… Mr. Crosse, why – __**why**__ couldn't I have met you anytime sooner? Before…you got with __**him**__?")_

_All of a sudden, the eerie timbres of seeping fluids resonates from every corner of the room…_

…A cold chill runs up Brother N'Dour's spine. He sits up in bed, wondering where such a sensation would come from. From what he's seeing, there's no one in the room with him. His bedside lamp has his entire room lit, so there's nothing that can escape his sight.

_("Yikes! What **was** that cold chill?") the Senegalese apprentice stands up in bed, looking out his window at the chase scene below. He remembers that vampire have the innate ability to fly, broadening his concerns. ("…Am I being watched? If so, then by who?")_

_"Why are you so jumpy, young man?" Brother N'Dour's frozen by the sound of a strong, masculine Romanian accent. "The night is young, the night is **fresh**… And so are **you**."_

The stranger walks to the apprentice's bedside electrical socket, and _pulls_ the plug to his lamp… The room becomes _dark_, and the image of a finely dressed gentleman _stalks_ the young man like _a serpent in the night_. Brother N'Dour looks over his shoulder…_and sees a frighteningly familiar image_.

_Brother N'Dour chokes on his fear, gazing into the recognized stalker's eyes, "…Y-y-y-y-you're…the… The Archbishop of the Church!"_

_That's right… Thaddeus has mysteriously entered the apprentice's room._

_"My existence of water, __**the Gold Experience**__, has a gift for making __**a**__**grand**__**entrance**__", the archbishop holds his right hand forward, revealing a living golden liquid in his exposed palm._

Brother N'Dour beholds the mystic wonders of the dark ecclesiast's existence… The golden liquid drips from the archbishop's palm, staining the apprentice's bedroom carpet. The golden liquid's molecular structure begins to spontaneously excite, multiplying and forming a humanoid life from.

_The liquescent substance forms a perfect duplicate of my fiancé… Brother N'Dour is struck with a cruel staff of horrified awe._

"_The Gold Experience also has the ability to read my victim's innermost thoughts", the apprentice looks to the shadowed stalker, wondering why he's showing this to him. Thaddeus explains his motives. "You're wasting your time here, boy. You have __**so much**__ hidden potential, yet you obediently subject yourself to the __**inadequate theories**__ of a senile old fool… __**Hmm!**__ Such a pity."_

_**"That's not true!" angers the apprentice.**_

_"Hoh…?" laughs the humored archbishop._

_"Father Andrew's a **true****genius**...and he's like a **father** to me!" with teary eyes, the apprentice stands up for his mentor with a righteous heart. "He saved me… He saved me from **you** people, after you **monsters****killed everyone in my village!** …I don't care **who** you are… **I won't let you affront Father Andrew's integrity!** I…I… **I hate every last one of you cultic bastards! Why don't you just disappear off of the face of the earth?**"_

_"Why the fuss…**sweetie**?" the golden replica speaks to Brother N'Dour with my boy's voice, sending the apprentice into a state of misperception… He's so overwhelmed by the copy's preciseness that he's unable to speak, let alone move from his current position. The duplicate's voice hisses with a seductive tone. "Oh, Yoyo-dear… I have a present for you."_

_"Th-th…that name…" the copy approaches the young man, kittenishly mounting his hips with an entrancing gaze. Brother N'Dour closes his eyes, frightened by the imposter's approaching lips… The abominated creature cradles against the frightened apprentice, behaving like an innocent lover. N'Dour looks down at his pursuer, confused by its engaging nature. "…What…**is** this thing? Why does it look like…**Damien?**"_

_Archbishop Beatles explains the creature's existence, as his golden liquid seeps into the pores of his opened right hand, "That's the 'image' of Damien buried in the back of your mind… It's insatiable. It's needy. It's a dedicated lover and companion… However, it **doesn't** belong…to Mr. Bennett anymore."_

_"…Does it have a name?"_

_"…Yes, it does", hisses the dark ecclesiast with a venomous leer. "Tell the boy your name, little one?"_

The golden-eyed doppelgänger sits up from the apprentice, resting his hips on his lover's torso.

_"My name is…Darien", Brother N'Dour is overwhelmed by the copy's entrancing gaze, unable to stop its gentle kiss. The archbishop watches his creation's emotional hold tighten around the apprentice's heart. "…Yoyo-dear, why won't you hold me? I **am** your lover, aren't I?"_

_"This…this just can't be real!" the doppelgänger silences his prey with a warm kiss to the lips._

_Thaddeus's silent laughs with a wicked jeer, drowning his voice under the security siren's repetitive ringing._

* * *

><p><em>The confrontation has reached a heated level of intensity…<em>

_**"Devour them! Dead Child!"** Father Jorge's thick mist releases a ghastly, steaming phantasm._

_"Heath, Battle Formation A", Brother Paul materializes into a fading breeze of rose petals._

_"Roger that, bro!" the cool-headed gunslinger salutes his strategic partner with his right handgun._

_Father Jorge becomes excited, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins._

_**"The end for you is now, estúpidos Matusalenes!" **the sociopathic rudo's haze ravenously pursues Brother Heath's stationary body.** "Die! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!"**_

_"Geez! What a 'scream queen'…" the dashing gunslinger twirls his leftward handgun on his ring finger, lifting it to a perfect sideways offhanded position. "Let's see if you can burn through this, cowboy… **Tactic 01: Satellite Shot – Activate!**"_

_With amazing precision, Brother Heath casts a series of seven electrified ghost shells from his aimed firearm. The Laws of Physics come into play… __**Brother Heath's Satellite Shot wave pierces through Father Jorge's Dead Child mist!**__ This places them __**both**__ at a disadvantage… However, Brother Paul recomposes into his normal form, and moves in for the interception! In the blink of an eye, Brother Paul draws his technologically enhanced katana with blinding haste!_

_The Methuselah's incredible swordplay gathers the ravenous haze into a simplified funnel of mist around his blade. Father Jorge decomposes his body into a cloud of mist, causing Brother Heath's ghost bullets to shoot through him, without suffering any physical damage. The sociopathic necromancer is humored by the transpired events of this encounter._

_"That warm-up was muy excitante, gringos Matusalenes…" he notices Brother Paul withdrawing his blade into its saya. Brother Heath also seems to be relaxing, acting as if they're not even in the midst of battle. Father Jorge becomes curiously amused. "…Hmm? You give up **already**, mis amigos?"_

_"Not really, bro…" Brother Heath looks into the distance behind the necromancer. The red-haired gunslinger's serpentine smile causes the sociopathic to become antsy. "…Just waiting for 'an expected return'."_

_Father Jorge chokes on a bitter taste of intimidation, __**"Q-q…qué estás hablando?"**_

_**The sound of bullets hitting the wall sends a cold shiver of fear up the sociopath's spine!**_

_"¿Qué fue eso?" exclaims the antsy necromancer, curious about the noise's origins._

_"Look behind you, old man", snickers Brother Paul._

_Father Jorge turns around to a terrifying sight…_

…_**Brother Heath's Satellite Shot attack wave has ricocheted off of the wall!**_

"_My bullets aren't normal, bro", explains the proud gunslinger. "You see, those ghost shells are 'living remnants' of my cybernetic existence. That means that I can make them go __**wherever**__ I want – at __**any**__ angle, at __**any**__ trajectory, __**and**__ I can even slow them down for precision purposes… Don't blink, bro."_

_**Sex Pistols' ghost bullets come to a complete halt, inches away from penetrating Father Jorge's skull!**_

The psyched sociopath is _pushed_ to the ground by overwhelming fear… Brother Paul closes his eyes, folds his arms and snickers at how cowardly the necromancer's acting. Brother Heath mentally alternates the directional path of his ghost bullets, rotating them 30-dgrees lower… They're now aimed _directly_ at the clergyman's grounded body, just _a split second_ away from piercing through his head.

_"Surrender now, or you'll be executed right here", warns the dashing gunslinger, before Father Jorge's laughter ruins his mood. "Hmm? And just what are **you** laughing at, crazy man?"_

_"You thought you win, yes? You believe you have Jorge **cornered like little ratita**, **huh?** Well…you guess **wrong**, **gringos Matusalenes!**"_

_Father Jorge physically materializes into a smoky haze, and seeps away towards his previous destination – the southern exit… Brother Paul also physically materializes, changing into a storming breeze of rose petals._

_"I'll corner him halfway, while you use your 'satellite control function' to pin him from the rear."_

_"Roger that, bro", the gunslinger allows his partner to pursue the fleeing escapee. Brother Heath looks at his air-bound ghost bullets with a cool smirk. "Pin 'im good… And watch out for Brother PJ this time? I don't want to hear none of his **girly****'yakkity-smack talk'** later on."_

_The ghostly bullets begin their pursuit of the fleeing clergyman, tracking him down using an innate heat-sensing ability… The dashing gunslinger stands up straight, proceeding leisurely down the hallway._

_("This is beginning to get ugly. You'd think that obsessive old geezer would've given up by now… I'm really starting to think about what Father Luis told me about brother, and it's starting to bother me.")_

_It was several hours ago, way before the security system sensed Father Jorge's escape… Brother Heath conversed with the masked radical about his reasons for sparing his elder brother's life._

"What made you do it, old man?"

_"I still love mi hermano, no matter what he do", the faceless técnico's words were filled with guilt._

Brother Heath understood his superior's pained sentiments.

"You're a _devoted_ little brother, through and through… I respect that, but what if he causes trouble for us? You know he's a potential threat _even now_, right? Necromancers are some _sneaky_ little bastards, ya know."

_"Sí, I know this very well…pero…", Father Luis opened the front compartment of his office desk, where he kept his elder brother's decorated mask for personal reasons. "…Pero…this máscara… There something 'evil' about it. When mi hermano wears máscara, something **very bad** happen to his cabeza, no?."_

"What does it do to him?"

_"…It drive him insane – muy loco, mi amigo", Brother Heath froze with shock after hearing such an eerie revelation. The faceless técnico showed the front part of his brother's mask to his comrade. "This máscara is **muy** peligroso – very dangerous, indeed. It is legend in México… It is called 'La Cara de la Muerte' – the Face of Death."_

Brother Heath folded his arms, and exhibited very intrigued body language.

_"The máscara I wear is also special, yes? It is 'La Cara de la Vida' – the Face of Life. These masks have muy especial magic in them… One for life, other for death. I discover existence because of mi máscara. Same for mi hermano, Father Jorge."_

Brother Heath's curiosity initiated his next question, "So, what happens if you losethe mask?"

_"You lose mask, you lose power", the second revelation strikes Brother Heath's full interest. "Los vampiros, the ones from México…we born with 'locked existence', and we need mask to unlock power. If mi hermano escapes when I no here, find way to take his mask… He no have power to fight back if you do. Comprende, mi amigo?"_

"Sure thing, Father Lu."

_Brother Heath awakens from his memories with newfound purpose, ("That mask is his source of power… __**Tch, damn it! **__I should've told PJ about that __**earlier**__! Man, I'm so __**slow**__ sometimes… Can't complain now. I better pick up the pace, or PJ just might get himself __**hurt**__! Feet, don't tell me now!")_

_Brother Heath activates his cybernetic leg muscles, and begins running down the hallway at 50 MPH._

_If Brother Paul makes an incorrect move, he'll be __**decimated**__ by the mindless necromancer. Though the battle's been working in their favor, Father Jorge has __**way too many**__ dirty tricks up his sleeve. The loss of his favorite field partner would devastate the gunslinger, and lessen their team by 1/4 …_

…_He silently prays and hopes that he reaches the fleeing party in the nick of time._

* * *

><p><em>The seduction continues…<em>

Brother N'Dour's been _entangled_ _in the doppelgänger's web of lascivious antics_. It _looks_ _exactly_ like Damien, it _feels_ _just_ _like_ Damien… _Smell_. _Touch_. _Taste_. _Sound_… It's composition's _so_ _frighteningly_ _accurate_, so _precise_… _He **has** Damien in his arms, **but it's not really him**_**.** I_t's the perverted image from the back of his mind…that's been given a life of its own. It feels right…_

_…But, it's **completely** **wrong**!_

_"Get off of me…" pleads the apprentice of the golden-eyed illusion._

_"But **why**, Yoyo-dear? You don't love me anymore?"_

_"…Get off of me…" he reiterates, fighting his tears. _

_"Oh…but **why**?" the clone pulls away from his prey, revealing a glowing set of golden eyes. Brother N'Dour's entranced by their ravenous, serpentine beam. "Why do you reject me? …Is there **another** **man** in your life…**Yoyo-dear?**"_

_The Senegalese hopeful loses his patience!_

**_"…Get off of me, you imposter!"_**_ Brother N'Dour forcefully pushes the doppelgänger off of him, jumps out of bed and plants his back against the eastern wall. "You're not Damien… Don't you **dare** touch me, again!"_

The insatiable charlatan, _a sinful creature named "Darien"_, begins to weep golden tears of sadness.

The archbishop approaches his mourning creation, and pets its head with a gentle left hand. Brother N'Dour closes his eyes, holding his hands over his ears… He slides down onto his bottom, fighting to drown out the creature's cries of mournful rejection.

_"What's wrong, Mr. N'Dour?" the dark ecclesiast eyes the psychologically engaged apprentice. His hissing tone pricks at Brother N'Dour's heart with a guilty needle. "You don't love him anymore, young man? Tell me…**why** are you cruelly rejecting his affections? …Is there **something** **wrong**…with giving in to your heart's **dark** **desires**?"_

_"**No!** That's **not** Damien!" the weeping apprentice refuses to look at the sight of the mourning doppelgänger, and **refuses** to absorb **a single ounce** of the ecclesiast's toxic words."That's a **fake**!** A phony! Get that thing away from me!**"_

Thaddeus ticks his teeth at the apprentice's tenacious sentiments, humored by his amorous resolve.

_"Now, now, Mr. N'Dour… Is **that** what you do to your emotions on a daily basis? You** drown** **them out** with heartless verses about morality? Ethics? Decency? **Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...!** My, oh **my**! That explains **quite a lot** about your **lackluster** **social prestige**… I can see **why** Damien chooses Stuart over you."_

_"**Enough!** I'm not listening to **any** of your fabricated fairytales!" the apprentice's resolve is more than a match for the ecclesiast's words. "Just get **out** of here! Leave! **Leave, and don't come back!**"_

The dark ecclesiast huffs with a humored breath of laughter.

_"Humph! Very well, but not before saying **this**…" the archbishop snaps his left set of fingers, triggering a mental chain reaction for his golden-eyed charlatan._

_Darien's eyes glow vibrantly, **before he lunges forward with brutal force! **The doppelgänger **violently** **pins** Brother N'Dour to the wall with a throttling right hand! Darien hisses with a venomous glowing gaze, as he lifts the young man off of his feet… Darien licks his lips like a wild animal, and blows his victim a poisonous kiss._

_"Muah! Goodnight kisses for Yoyo-dear!" wickedly cackles the golden-eyed clone._

_"Let…me…**go!**" pleads the choking apprentice._

_Thaddeus's tickled by the sight of such struggle._

_Archbishop Beatles loses his cruel laughter, and gives the young man a fair warning, "…In another month, Infinity HQ will be under siege. **Everyone** and **everything** within HQ parameters will be **annihilated**! The count has grown tired of the **continual** interferences of mindless **miscreants** **like you**… So, I advise you to turn your back to your so-called 'father figure'…**before you end up losing your life, Mr. N'Dour!**"_

_"Stop…this…" the doppelgänger throttles the apprentice, silencing his tenacious tongue._

_"Be a good boy and **silence that** **filthy** **tongue of yours**, **Yoyo-dear**", hisses the golden-eyed clone. **"Unless you wish it pulled right out of that precious mouth of yours!"**_

_Brother N'Dour's beginning to fade into unconsciousness… The archbishop has mercy on the young man, and kindly calls off his clone with a snapping of his left fingers. Darien coldly drops the apprentice to the ground… Brother N'Dour lands on his left side, holding onto his throat in a fight to catch his breath. _

_"You…mon…ster…" the apprentice coughs, unable to finish his sentence._

_"Hoh…? 'Monster', you say? You **willingly** fell in love with a monster, yet **you** **couldn't even accept **the offer to have **him** – the 'monster' that **you** created. You've hurt **poor** **little** **Darien's** **feelings**, Mr. N'Dour, when he did **nothing** to deserve your rejection. I can feel **an** **overwhelming** **anguish** **eating** away at his precious little soul… So, ask yourself this question, Mr. N'Dour… Who's the **'real** **monster'** in this conversation?"_

_The ravenous clone pounces onto the grounded apprentice's lap, causing him minor abdominal pain._

Brother N'Dour _fights_ to get the clone off of him, but he's unable to. Darien's physical strength's_too much_ for the apprentice to handle on his own… The copy _savagely_ _licks_ the apprentice's face with a slimy golden tongue, sending sexual tingles through _every_ _corner_ of Brother N'Dour's body.

_"Master, can I play with him some more?" the doppelgänger licks his slimy chops, ready to **feast** upon the boy's flesh. "He looks so **delicious**… And I'm so **very**…**hungry**…"_

_Brother N'Dour closes his eyes, feeling as if this is the end… An image of Damien runs across his mind… His heart cries out to my boy. The only thing he can think is, "help me, Damien… save me, Damien", but his silent petitions remain unanswered._

_Thaddeus shakes his head, pitying Brother N'Dour for being so weak._

_"That's quite enough, Darien", his words trigger tears of sadness from his clone, and a childish reaction… Darien clings to Brother N'Dour with stubborn arms. The archbishop smiles at his creation's affections. "I'm sure Mr. N'Dour's virginal innocence has been **violated** **enough**, my boy. Up with you, now."_

_"But, Master…I don't wanna…" the dark ecclesiast approaches his clone, gently grabs Darien by the shoulders, and drags him off of the boy's lap. Darien begins to throw a tantrum like a spoiled child. "No, Master, no-no-no-**no**! I wanna stay and play with my sexy man some more, ya big **meanie**!"_

_"Silence, Darien…" the dark ecclesiast eyes his creation's frame, examining its tantalizing build._

_He suddenly develops **several** **indecent** **ulterior** **motives**. Thaddeus invites his creation back to their home on the other side of Rutherford… To satisfy his **burning** sexual impulses._

_"…How about we retire for the evening, my boy? You've had **quite** an eventful night, after all."_

**_"No!"_**_ stomps the clone, folding his arms with puffed cheeks. The archbishop picks his doppelgänger up with cradling arms, holding the clone as if it were a baby. Darien likes his master's strong arms, and cradles against him. "Mmm… My master's such a **strong** man. I'll go anywhere with you, Mast Thaddeus."_

_"I've other plans for you, dear", a sneaky idea comes to the ecclesiast's head. "Here's one… How about I introduce you to your 'twin brother' sometime in the near future?"_

_Darien excites, beaming a warm glare at his master, "**Really?** I can **really** meet my twin brother?"_

_"Yes, you can… But, for now, let's go home and…'get some rest'."_

_"**Yay!** I'm going to 'rest' with Master Thaddeus", Darien snuggles against his owner's chest, as they begin to decompose into a pool of golden liquid._

_The archbishop's parting words, before fully decomposing, sends chills through N'Dour's body, "I advise you to choose your affiliations with a sound mind, boy… And, you **better** make sure that it's the right one. If not…I'll make **sure** of it… **I'll make sure that you're the first person to die!**"_

_The decomposed ecclesiast's liquefied laughter haunts the apprentice's every thought, as the watery pair seeps across the floor… And through the cracks of the bedroom window._

_Brother N'Dour sighs, feeling his heartbeat returning to normal, ("**Phew! **That was a close one. Those fanged sideshow freaks nearly took my life… No wonder why Damien's friends are having such **a rough time**… I just wish this would be all over and done with, but…")_

A knock comes from Brother N'Dour's front door.

_The young man stands up, and approaches the entrance, ("I wonder who **that** could be.")_

Brother N'Dour arrives at the front door, unlocks it and opens it up… He's greeted by his mentor, Father Andrew, and the remaining half of the Highwaymen, Brother Randal and Sister Sarona.

"Oh, good evening, everyone", happy greets the apprentice.

_"People are worried about ya, little fella. Is there something going on, besides the jailbreak?"_

"Oh…um…well…"

The Scottish cyber-technologist is humored by Brother N'Dour's tenseness.

_"Calm down, fella. I've authorized Brother Randal and Sister Sarona to watch over you… We already know what happened, and we **won't** have clergymen threatening our people. Having a full-parameter security system comes in handy, **especially** the PA system."_

_"You mean…?" Father Andrew nods to his impressed student with a warm smile._

_"That's right, little fella", the fatherly cyber-technologist pets his apprentice's head with a warm right hand. "We heard the entire conversation… But, we're curious about something."_

"What is it, Father Andrew?"

_"Darien? Did 'Old Man Thad' **really** do what we **think** he did?"_

Brother N'Dour lowers his head in a mode of guilt, "…Yes, he did. He made a _monster_ from my feelings about Damien. _It…it tried to kill me, and it called me..._"

Brother N'Dour's eyes fill with mournful tears.

_"I know…he called you 'Yoyo-dear'," Father Andrew notices his apprentice's tears, and lowers his voice to a parental tone. "You couldn't help yourself when he called you that. I understand how you feel, little fella… Try not to let Old Man Thad's mind games get the best of you."_

_"But…it…it… It…called me…"_

Brother N'Dour begins to cry… He falls into Father Andrew's strong arms, clinging to his parental figure with a child's sadness. The apprentice's humiliation pushes the scientist's buttons… _Father Andrew, for the first time in **hundreds** of years..._

_…Is completely **furious**._

_"I'll make sure to avenge those tears, Youssou…" Father Andrew gently places his right hand onto Brother N'Dour's head. He closes his eyes, feeling the pain seeping from the young man's heart. "…How **dare** he insult our friends; our integrity; **our** **purpose in this world**! Poor little Damien – the baby that I held with these old arms of mine 27 years ago… How **could** he? To play with someone's emotions like that is **shameful**, **even for a vampire!**"_

_Sister Sarona places her right hand onto her creator's left shoulder, "Father Andrew, let us take it from here. You should go and get some rest."_

_"We'll update you by the hour", seconds Brother Randal. "You should just take it easy. You know how **uncontrollable** you get when you're angry."_

_"Hmm! I guess you're right", Father Andrew releases Brother N'Dour, allowing his Methuselahs to take things from here… The ageless nightwalker regains his composure, turns on his heel and proceeds down the hallway. He waves his right hand to his children as he departs from the scene. "Take care of him for me, kiddos. I've got a few phone calls to make before I hit the hay."_

_"Yes, sir", humbly responds the Methuselahs._

"I'm sorry to trouble you so much", apologizes Brother N'Dour.

_"Don't worry about that, kid", excuses Brother Randal. "You didn't do anything. You were just the victim of a madman's cynical scheme. Don't let it bother you… Now, let's get you to bed."_

_"…Okay."_

Brother N'Dour follows his big brother and sister into his dorm… Overwhelmed by shame, the young man runs into his bedroom and _slams_ the door behind him. Sister Sarona attempts to follow him, but she's halted by her cybernetic brother's left hand.

"What are you doing, Randy? He needs us. Let go."

_"No, he doesn't. He needs **Damien**, not us… No matter how hard we try, we won't be able to lessen his emotional pain. He'll just argue with us and kick us out…. That's the type of person Brother Youssou is."_

"…_Fine_, we'll let him be…for now", Sister Sarona retreats to Brother N'Dour's couch, instantly beginning her nightly _8-hour A.I. maintenance_. "I'm going to take a nap. PJ and Heath should be finishing up with the escapee, and the Lost Boyz will be here any second now."

Standing near the window to the west, Brother Randal sees the cavalry arriving at this very moment.

"_Hmm!_ _Well_, speak of the devil…" snickers the cool-headed team leader.

_"They're here, aren't they?"_

_"Yep… Right on time", Brother Randal observes the epic landing stages of the Lost Boyz._

* * *

><p><em>The chase has raged on for several minutes now…<em>

In the form of a fleeing mist, Father Jorge finally makes it to the southern foyer… The exit's just up ahead!

_("Finally! Jorge break free of cárcel…!") he silently delights, realizing that he's seconds away from the home stretch… However, his quiet celebration's put to an end! Brother Paul's caught up with Father Jorge, storming past him in his rose petal form. The materialized rudo panics. ("¿Qué es esto? Where gringo Matusalén get this incredible speed from…?")_

The two materialized warriors clash, trailing upward in their transmuted form. Brother Paul and Father Jorge's encounter is_ "supernatural poetry in motion"_ – _two elemental bodies climbing each other with every devastating moment of contact._

**_"You no stop Jorge, gringo Matusalén!"_**_ Father Jorge seeps furiously towards the oncoming Brother Paul._

_The materialized swordsman returns the gesture with epic approach, **"Don't get cocky, old man!"**_

_"Damn you…**I kill you, you stupid cabrón** **engreído!**" Father Jorge's materialized composition expands to **gargantuan** **proportions**, **well** **beyond** the level of power that Brother Paul's capable of. The materialized swordsman panics, realizing that he's about to be overpowered. The hazy sociopath excites with a fit of joyful malice. **"Burn to death! Final Burning Bridge!"**_

_("Oh no, I'm done for!") the swordsman's unable to find an opening for evasion._

_No matter where he turns, he'll end up being melted by Father Jorge's steamy physical composition… However, a cold chill comes over the area that causes Father Jorge's hazy form to slowly harden!_

_"¿Qué magia es esta?" shudders the necromancer, as he loses his hazy composition… And biologically reverts to his original human form. He falls to his hands and knees, suffering chronic freezer burns around his ankles and his lower back. Brother Paul biologically reverts to his original form as well, standing in awe of what he's seeing. Father Jorge's in a **world** of pain. **"AAH…! Alguien, por favor, parar esto! AAH…!"**_

_"Where in the **world** are those freezer burns coming from…?" exclaims the confused swordsman._

_"From 'the #1 iceman' this side of the eastern hemisphere, homeboy!" a familiar voice turns Brother Paul around on his heel… His eyes widen to the sight of his fellow Methuselahs from the Barcelona Branch. Brother Jayson's just used his existence of water to physically prohibit the escapee from progressing any further. The Nubian Methuselah flashes his technologically enhanced rings on his right hand. "My Blueprint's initial tactic, Freezer Burn, turns the entire area into a large freezer unit. If you don't comply with our orders, Father Jorge, I'll turn you into a human ice sculpture… Now, do you want to 'chill out'? **Or, do you want to freeze to death, son?**"_

_Father Jorge snarls at the image of the Barcelonan Branch's cybernetic dream team._

_Father Jorge, stubborn and full of resolve, aims his right hand at the stationary foursome, "You no stop Jorge…**I no give up!** I burn your ice away…**with mist of death!**" _

_Father Jorge's aimed right hand releases a blast of steaming haze!_

**_Brother Paul panics, "Oh no! Watch out!"_**

The Lost Boyz, however, appear to be _far_ from worried… Their righteous souls are roused by the thrill of the impending battle. Brother John rallies his Lost Boyz' spirits with a virtuous war call.

_"Lost Boyz, Attack Pattern Alpha!"_

_"Roger!" responds his fellow Methuselahs._

_Brother Kevin retreats backwards, silently summoning a ghostly semi-automatic rifle into his right grasp. Brother John dashes to the right, Brother Jayson dashes to the left. Sister Eva dashes forward, summoning a ghostly metallic staff into her grasp… She comes to a halt, poises herself in a strong front stance, and begins twirling her staff at speed **exceeding 100 MPH in precisely 0.523 seconds!**_

_The laws of physics come into place, once again… Sister Eve's initial tactic causes Father Jorge's haze to reverse its directional path. **The necromancer's attack is being sent right back at him!**_

_"Incredible!" exclaims Brother Paul in awe of such tactical expertise._

_Sister Eve leaps high into the air, surfing to safety upon a wild airstream, "Kev, it's your turn!"_

_"I'm on it!" the cybernetic marksman aims his ghostly semi-automatic rifle in a kneeling position. He focuses and fires a spray of 17 shells at the returning haze. "This should do it! Jay, cut his defenses off!"_

_The ghost shells breach through the mist's composition, creating gaps large enough for the remaining two Lost Boyz to proceed into the final measures… Brother Jayson excites his Freezer Burn tactic, causing the necromancer's hands to become numb._

**_"AAH…!"_**_ the necromancer wails in a fit of pain, burying his hands in his arms pits._

_Brother John solidifies his entire body frame with a thick coating of Allow 1090 carbon steel. His body transforms into a metallic masterpiece… The righteous team leader, rears his righ foot and performs a powerful rushing punt to the necromancer's jaw!_

_Father Jorge is knocked into unconsciousness, **"GWAAH…!"**_

_His body's flung away like a living like a rag doll, reacting to the excessive force packed into Brother John's brutal coup de grâce… After forcefully being spun through the air three times, the sociopathic rudo's smashed backfirst into the western walls of the foyer!_

All of a sudden, Brother Heath's ghost bullets arrive, putting an end to _any_ premeditated endeavors.

The living shells _attack_ Father Jorge's face like _a swarm of bees_, scraping across his máscara at the speed of _sound_… The end result: _La Cara de la Muerte is reduced to a pile of colorful shredded leather._

_"Those are…" Brother Paul looks over his shoulder, and delights in seeing that his partner's arrived. Brother Heath approaches the party, as his ghost shells spontaneously fade away into nothingness. "…Glad to see that you could make it, partner."_

_"You guys did a good job stalling him for US", Brother Heath unarms himself, retreating Sex Pistols back into his cybernetic existence. He shakes Brother John's hand as a gesture of gratitude. "I tried to get here as soon as I could, but my legs were burned by remnant trails of haze. I sped up my shells just in time to get rid of that **goddamned** **mask** for his."_

"His mask?" the rest of the Lost Boyz join the conversation, their attention being turned to the shredded máscara before the rudo's cataleptic frame. Brother Kevin retreats his semi-automatic rifle, becoming inquisitive about the subject. "What's the big deal about it? It looks like a run-of-the-mill luchador's mask to me."

_"Father Luis said that Mexican vampires are born with locked existences. Their powers unlock when they gain their mask… If this creep doesn't has his mask, he's no longer a threat to us."_

"Good! Lock this psycho up and throw away the key", Sister Eve folds her arms, allowing her ghostly staff to merge back into her existence. She notices that her hair's frizzed a little from the haze. "_Ugh!_ That bastard _ruined_ my hair… The girls at _'El Salón'_ are going to flip at me for this!"

"Synthetic hair's a bitch, ain't it?" teases Brother Jayson, rousing the beautiful Methuselah's offenses.

_The Latina Methuselah bucks up to her smart-mouthed comrade, **"What did you say…?"**_

_"I said 'ya look like a hammerhead shark'!"_

**_"KILL!"_**_ Sister Eve tackles Brother Jayson to the ground, attempting to subdue him with submission techniques. However, she forgets that his body's technologically enhanced to handle high-level stress. Brother Jayson yawns, allowing his comrade to vent her frustrations on his virtually indestructible body. **"HOW DARE YOU! A GIRL'S HAIR IS HER TREASURE!"**_

_"Uh-huh", yawns the Nubian cyborg._

**_"YOU MUST DIE!"_**

_"Y…eah, okay", the one-sided tussle is put to an early end by Brother John's restricting hands. The two scrapping Methuselahs are separated from each other, with Brother Jayson being a lot 'calmer' than his female comrade. The Nubian cyborg is let go, turning his back to the fuming Sister Eve. "Hmm! You really need to chill out, Weavy Eve… It's not like I was trying to offend you. Just telling the truth, that's all."_

Sister Eve's set into a hysterical mode of rage.

**_"GRR…! I'M GOING TO SNAP YOUR BODY IN HA–!"_**_ all of a sudden, the femme Methuselah's A.I. spontaneously switches into 'hibernation' mode._

She passes out into a cataleptic state, slumping over like a ragdoll. The sound of hand clapping comes from the entrance leading to the foyer… Everyone turns to the north to see the image of approaching creator.

Father Andrew approaches his talented magnum opus of cybernetic genius, applauding their silly display of worker's ethics, "_Bravo, hoo-hoo, bravo!_ Where's a Hollywood agent when you _need_ one, eh kiddos?"

_"Father Andrew", the Methuselahs salute their creator by placing their left fist over their right pectoral._

"Lost Boyz, I just contacted Mother Wendy", the creator puts his hands behind his back, coming to a halt before his 'children'. "I want the lot of you to return to the Barcelonan Branch ASAP. The Church plans on obstructing Infinity HQ within a month's time. We'll take the initiative to give them 'a well-deserved surprise'… Brother Heath, Brother Paul?"

_"Yes, Father?"_

"Take the old geezer back to his cell, lock him up and throw away the key."

_"Yes, Father", the Bloodbrothers retrieve the fallen escapee's catatonic body._

_Father Jorge's handcuffed and escorted to his cell in his unresponsive state._

_Father Andrew approaches the colorful shreds of leather near the western wall, picking it up to examine its mysterious construction, "So, **this** is the mask that Father Luis was talking about, eh? …Hmm! It was an ugly piece of crap when it was intact… Looks like a pile of rainbow-colored shit now."_

"Should we take the contents to Mother Wendy, Father?" questions Brother Kevin.

_"Yeah, do that…" he tosses the piece of the máscara to the ground, disgusted by its unsightly image. The smiling cyber-technologist places his hands in his jacket pockets, turns on his heel and faces his 'children'. He pulls out a high-tech remote control from his right pocket. "…And make sure to keep your sister under control. It's like I have to bring 'this' with me everytime you guys visit. All of that nonsense was uncalled for, so shape up those confrontational attitudes of yours. If you want to vent your anger, do it during missions – not amongst each other. You're a **family**, kiddos…so start **acting** like one."_

_"Yes, Father", the Methuselahs salute their departing creator, taking his fatherly reprimanding to heart._

_"Have a safe trip, kiddos. Godspeed."_

__"Thank you, Father", the cyber-technologist emerges into the darkness of the hallway to the north.__

* * *

><p>The cyber-technologist exits the MS 8 building minutes later, hearing the sound of his Lost Boyz' ionic batwings ascending into the skies… He stops in his tracks, turns on his heel and witnesses the grand departure of his original set of Methuselahs. He folds his arms and cracks a smile, knowing that the four "cybernetic stooges" will <em>never<em> change. They've _always_ had a _dysfunctional_ _relationship_ but, in his _own_ little way… Father Andrew _enjoys_ exercising his fatherly words with them.

_The act makes him feel adequate; needed; admired… It sends a warm tingle through his seasoned old soul._

"Being a 'father figure' has its rewards…don't it, _old timer_?" the cyber-technologist turns on his heel, beholding the obscured image of his _old friend_ hiding in the shadows of the main building… Upon Father Andrew's request, _Lord Alexander's_ traveled from his mansion estate in _New Aldington_. He's been asked to assist Drew in_ 'taking care of a little unfinished business'…_ He accepted the invite without _any_ argumentation. "You're _never_ late for a party, huh? When it comes to your _cute little nephew_, you're about as _punctual as a devoted father_."

_"Where's my 'Little One', Andrew? …I wish to see him."_

"_Willington Municipal Hospital_ with Mother Kate's 'little boy band'. I hear_ the Adored Twins_ have joined them out of concern for _'the blossoming greener'_."

_"The greener?" the old Crusnik's tickled by Father Andrew's comical reference. "Hm-hm-hm-hm-hm… Yes, Little One's told me **many** **exciting** **stories** about Mr. Bennett… It's such a shame – we foughton** opposing **sides not too long ago… I didn't see it coming – an old rival **slipping** under my nose, becoming a **very** valuable ally."_

Father Andrew's humored by the Crusnik's solicitous nature, "_Ha!_ Good ol' Al – _always_ taking the young under his wing… Now, you _behave_ yourself around _Little Stuey_… DC will get _mighty_ angry with ya if ya don't. You've spent _enough_ years _faking your identity_ to fit in with human society… A family dispute _won't_ make things _any_ _prettier_ for ya, old timer."

Lord Andrew's tickles to a huff of humor.

_"Hmm! Enough **nonsense** talk, Andrew! I'll hear **none** of your sharp tongue's **jabbering** this evening… Just don't blow my cover, like you do **every** **single** **time** I attempt to honorably expose myself? I shouldn't get my hopes up, though… Your **endless** 'boat of shenanigans' seems to **always** 'sail across' my patience, one way or another."_

"_Oh_, keep your head up, ya old _goat_", laughs the humored scientist, approaching his enigmatic comrade.

_"I'll try, but don't **test** me this time. I'm not one of your 'rascally little children', you know… I tend to want to give them a right-good **'spanking'** every now and then, myself."_

"_Ha!_ Ya gotta love those_ little rascals_, eh?"

_"We haven't a choice in the matter", they shake hands like proper gentleman, sharing a little brotherly laughter. "We older gentlemen should **always** have a reserved set of heirs, or at least a few **reliable** successors… I'll take my leave, now… Remind me – **what's** the name of that hospital, again?"_

"Willington Municipal Hospital", reminds the cyber-technologist, before extending his parting wishes. "They won't be leaving until Stuart's discharged from his room. Mother Kate's cellphone should be on 24/7, so give her a ring if you've _any_ _further_ questions… Have a safe trip, old fella."

_"I wish you good fortune as well, Andrew", the old bloodbrothers release their grip, allowing Lord Alexander to epically ascend upon a grand set of batwings._

_Father Andrew waves silent farewells to his friend, wishing him good fortune with a proud smile._

_The Scotsman turns on his heel, looking at Brother N'Dour's dorm window from his position in the courtyard. He folds his arms, remembering the horrible things that Archbishop Beatles said to his student…_

_("I advise you to choose your affiliations with a sound mind, boy… And, you **better** make sure that it's the right one. If not…I'll make **sure** of it… **I'll make sure that you're the first person to die!**")_

_Father Andrew recognizes these words._

_They were the **same** words that Thaddeus said to him 100 years before his death at the hands of Lord Frederic. Father Andrew **wasn't** **always** the cool-headed scientist that we know him to be. He was once a **child**, who was forced to stare into the eyes of the callous Moldavian delinquent… Those words struck fear into his heart, and to think he'd do the same thing to Brother N'Dour…_

_…That's doing **so much more** than **crossing** Andrew's patience._

_("When he said those words to me, sporting that **disgusting** existence of water, I **froze** up like a scared little lamb… He made a copy of Alexander, and I couldn't even **think** **straight**. I **thought**… I thought that I was being **betrayed** by my bestfriend, but that was soon proven to be **a** **decorated** **lie**… God, I stand here this evening, **vowing** to put an **end** to that cold-blooded crook's power games… For the **sake** of N'Dour; for the **sake** of Damien **and** Alexander… But, **most** of all, for **myself** and **every** **other child** who's endured his **sickening** **cruelties**! Damien, N'Dour, don't you worry your little heads. **Good** ol' Uncle Al and Papa Drew will take care of things for ya, lads… There's not a man alive who survived the bite…**of** **'the Progenies of Destruction'**, **Whitesnake!**")_

_Father Andrew sharply turns on his heel, retiring to his apartment for the evening. His heart's filled with a hunger for vengeance… Will he and his old field partner, Lord Alexander, be able to put an end to the archbishop's sinister power trip?_

___Only time will tell.___

* * *

><p><em>The archbishop's room is lit with the sounds of gentle moaning, and the squeaking of metal springs…<em>

_Thaddeus has made love to his clone for the past hour, riding the beautiful creature in missionary position… His thrusts are strong, yet gentle enough to make Darien cling to his master with insatiable arms._

**_"Oh, Master…oh…"_**

**_"Mmm…"_**_ the archbishop thrusts his rod deeper into the clone's wet hole._

_Darien roughly grips onto the bed sheets covering their lower bodies, closing his eyes to the world of morality. According to the Church's tenets of faith, the ecclesiast's involvement with a creature created from molecular alchemy is strictly forbidden and is considered "taboo"… However, Thaddeus's voracious nature and tenacious resolve has **never failed** put him in dire straits, especially with the Magistrates of the Church Senate._

_When the archbishop claims his mate, he **never** lets them go… It's his nature – to cling to a sumptuous figure of beauty, keeping **a tight grip** on his prized possession._

_He stops thrusting for a second, gazing into his creation's eyes, "…I haven't a clue why I'm doing this, and I know that it's forbidden… But, I just **couldn't** **help** myself. Forgive me, Darien… I do not mean to play with your feelings, so we should stop this right here."_

_"Now, now, Master…" the beautiful charlatan caresses his creator's strong cheeks with a gentle left hand. Thaddeus looks into Darien's golden eyes, and holds onto his creation's extended limb with a gentle right. "…**You** want to break free from the Church, anyhow… So, **why** **worry** about dishonoring their **trivial** doctrines? …There's no 'sin' in a little 'bedroom indulgence', especially if it's the **honest** kind. Besides, don't you **love** me…Master?"_

_The archbishop leans in with a warm glare, "…I've loved him…since the first day I saw him…"_

_"**Aww**…you **love** my brother, Master?" delightedly coos the golden-eyed clone._

_"Yes…" Thaddeus stops just inches away from his clone's lips, teasing the remnant creature with a ravenous pecks to his cheeks. Darien giggles like a little baby with every wet smacker he gets. "You…will…help me exact my ambitions…right?"_

**_"Hee-hee-hee, yes!"_**

_"And **how** will we go about doing that, love?" he kisses his creation's warm lips, savoring Darien's tasty oral flavors. He pulls his lips away from his lover's kiss, staring into his eyes with a loving gaze. "Do you remember what I asked you to do, sweetie? About Damien, and what to do with his lover and friends?"_

_Darien looks into his master's eyes, and answers him with wicked tone._

_"Yes, Master…"_

_"What did I tell you to do, dear?"_

_"Meet with my twin brother, retain him and bring him to you…and then…**I take the lives of his filthy fiancé AND their disgusting band of heretic cronies!**"_

_"Good, Darien…**very** good…" their laughter resonates through the bedchamber with a venomous hiss._

_The secret ambition that will soon **rock the face of the earth** has been made…_

_…Thaddeus wishes to have my boy for himself, and he **won't** **stop** until he's **killed** **every last one of us **in the process. He still wishes to exact his lord's cause, but he will do it on his **own** **terms**… The archbishop really hasn't a **clue** – he's **deeply** treading in the Church's **shark-infested waters**. This act of heresy will **most** **definitely** claim his life, but **who** will be the one to put an end to his dastardly scheme?_

_Will it be **us**?_

_Will it be **the Church**?_

_Or, will he somehow manage to **exact** his egotistical motives?_

____The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…____

* * *

><p><strong><em><em><em><em>(Ending Theme – "Black Diamond" by Mizuki Nana)<em>___**

* * *

><p><strong><em><em><em><em>(Up Next: Chapter 13 – Somebody Else's Guy)<em>___**


	14. Chapter 13: Somebody Else's Guy

_**BLOOD/Night**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>(<strong><em>Opening Theme 2 – "Chikyuugi" by Matsuzawa Yumi)<em>****_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 13 – <strong>**Somebody Else's Guy**_

* * *

><p><em>The night twinkles with a gentle glow of scattered starlight…<em>

These past few hours have been very kind to me, despite my bedridden state. My charge nurse, a kind young lady of Willington, gave me a good word… I'm soon to be discharged, _approximately_ by 6:30 PM tomorrow. The head physician believes my recovery to be "a miracle", for _no ordinary man_ could've responded as quickly as I did. I'm pretty sure we _all know why_ I awoke when I did, so we'll save the excess formalities and carry on.

_My boy rests on my room's bedside sofa, snuggled comfortably in a tight ball._

_I, on the other hand, am unable to get a single ounce of slumber._

I've _hated_ hospitals since I was 3 years old, when I received _my first flu shot_. My skin was _really_ sensitive back then, _so it hurt like_ _hell_… I was _traumatized_ by the experience, and I've been _trypanophobic_ ever since. The fear of needles is a very _common_ thing, but _not so much_ when it comes to _big guys_ like me.

_What makes matters worse – I have an IV in my right arm… __**Ugh!**__ My skin's __**crawling**__ at the sight of it! It's so…__**gross**__, but…I need this godforsaken __**thing**__ to help me get better. Oh, my Sweets…how I wish you were still awake to help comfort me. My nerves…they're bothering me…_

_"Mmm…Daddy…" I hear my boy mumbling my pet name in his sleep. I look to the right and see him rolling onto his left side in the sofa… My! He seems to be quite cozy on that flimsy little lounger. The last time I saw him **this** "jumpy" in bed…well…um… I think you **know** what I'm referring to. **Ahem!** Animal sex, **ahem**! "…I love you…Stuey… Marry…now… Wait no…more…"_

Even in his dreams, my fiancé thinks of nothing but marrying me… He must be _truly devoted_ to our relationship to have such _amorous_ subconscious envisions. That makes me feel…well…loved and appreciated, but at the same time… _It wouldn't be a good idea right now, eloping at such a crucial time of our lives_.

_("I'd elope with you at this very second, love") his unconscious words have sent a bolt of guilt through my heart. I close my eyes, turn my vision to the ceiling and begin fantasizing about our wedding day. The saddening vision pricks away at my feelings, tenderizing them with silent grief. ("Without doubt, without a single complaint, I'd __**gladly**__ jump the broom with you… But, that's __**impossible**__ right now. This war – it's far too __**dangerous**__ to risk something like that. Now that I think about it, Lord Frederic and Lady Maribel were subjected to that __**unpleasant**__ act of fate… No matter __**how much**__ we'd like to join in matrimony right now, we __**can't**__ allow history to repeat itself. The Church __**may**__ have ruined my great-grandparents' wedding… But I __**won't**__ allow them to ruin mine.")_

_"Who…are you…?" my boy begins to toss and turn anxiously in his sleep._

_His unconscious trepidation catches my attention, ("Hmm? Is he having a nightmare?")_

_I attempt to get up, but I'm currently unable to move my lower body… Everything else is working just fine, but my legs… They're like __**logs of**__**gelatin**__ – I can't move them, no matter __**how**__ hard I try._

_Tch! __**Damn it all!**__ This isn't the time to be __**acting**__**useless**__, body! Would you __**move**__, for Pete's __**sake**__…?_

_"Thaddeus…"_

_My boy utters an unfamiliar name… I don't have a lot of associates named "Thaddeus", but I knew a fellow back in Preston with that name. He was my next door neighbor, and one of the __**nicest**__ people that I knew in my early childhood… But, as you may already know…this "Thaddeus" is far from being a "good, neighborly individual"._

_"Thaddeus, no…stop it…" I look to my boy, instantly seeing an odd and petrifying sight…_

_**There's a man laying over my boy's body, and he's sexually violating him!**_

_He looks at me with a face obscured by darkness… His venomous, hissing laughter cruelly taunts me for being unable to do anything about the situation… Wait a second…__**my existence!**_

_"Para…dise…**UGH!**" ouch, **blast it all** – my noggin's throbbing fiercely! I'm still mentally exhausted! I can't summon my sunlight in this state… I should at least attempt to verbally repulse this faceless stranger. "You, whoever you are, get off of him… What you're doing to him is wrong!"_

_"Hmm…" he taunts me with a serpentine smirk._

_**"****Why you–! GET OFF OF HIM, I SAY!"**_

_"You're in **no** position to give me orders, boy!" his face, his voice… Why do they sound so **familiar**? "You're in the way, Stuart… You can kill one of the highest ranked clergymen of the Church, but you can't even fulfill this little one's dreams of matrimony? __**Ha!**__ How pathetic... A killer that can't get past his own doubts and fears. It's ironic – onscreen, you're a daunting figure of power and eloquence; the acclaimed and feared 'Great White Shark from Manchester'...a 'natural born predator"… But, in real life…__**you're not any of those things**__…"_

_His cruel words prick at my patience, digging deeper with each word he spits at me._

_**"****You're a spineless little guppy, swimming in a pool of hungry sharks!"**_

_**...What did he just say to me?**_

_"Why, you little…**I'LL DESTROY YOU!**" I attempt to jump out of bed using my control over the air, but I am mentally and physically restrained. The effort shocks my body. "__**GAH!**__ Blast this cursed condition of mine!"_

_The clergyman laughs at me for attempting to jump out of bed at him, watching as I hold my head in unbearable pain… The obscured predator begins tasting my boys neck with a ravenous tongue, greedily savoring his fleshy flavor. I look at the disturbing image, fighting my tears… __**But, I can't!**__ I'm __**not**__ going to cry because of this… I…I just… __**I JUST WANT TO RIP HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF!**_

_"Calm down, Stuart…I'll let you have him" the obscured predator sits up on his knees, and leans into a lounging position on the sofa. I look at him with confused eyes, watching a serpentine leer decorate his strong profile. He gently places his left hand on my boy's right leg, caressing it like a loving protector. "Awaken, my lovely minx… Go and fulfill __**all**__ of your fiancé's __**carnal desires**__."_

_My boy sits up from his resting position on his back, moving as if he were __**a**__**sexualized**__**corpse**__. He looks up to the ceiling with lethargic eyes… And then, he gazes at me with a voracious golden glare._

_What…? Wait a second! That's not…_

_**By Jove! **__**What kind of wizardry is this?**_

_"Oh, Stuey-dear…" he hisses at me, his jaws **oozing** with a grotesque golden slime. I'm frozen with fear, feeling as if I'm having a night terror… The monstrous creature stands up from the sofa, creeping towards me with ravenous jaws. "…Be a good boy, Stuey-dear. Let your 'precious little boy' leave his mark on you."_

_"Stay away from me, you sick freak!" he crawls into my hospital bed from the front, creeping towards me with kittenish rhythm. I try to put up a verbal front, but he's not listening to me. "…I mean it… Get away from me! Damn you, I said __**get**__**away**__ – __**you're not my boy!**__" _

_**"****Hiss! Hold your tongue, fledgling!" he parts his jaws, attempting to snag at my neck with his slimy chops! I fight to keep him away from me, nearly failing with every attempt. "Hiss! How about a hickey, bitch? Come on, give your 'boy' some sugar, Stuey-dear! Hiss!"**_

_**"****Away with you, demon! Get away, I say!"**_

_**"****Don't be so cruel, lover!" the ravenous monster scratches at my face, attempting to break free of my defenses. "Hiss! Just a little taste, Stuey-dear! You liked it when you were fucking my brother the other night! Now, gimmie some of that white chocolate! NOM, NOM, NOM, NOM, NOM!"**_

_**Damn! This thing's got some monstrous strength on him! My arms are starting to become tired!**_

_"Why fight him, Stuart?" the obscured spectator grazes his chin with his left hand index finger and thumb, resting his right arm on the top of the sofa. He lowers his head just an inch, attempting to understand my fearful resolve with a mocking leer. "Isn't this what you wanted? You wanted 'a kiss from your boy', right? Or…did your __**'fiancé'**__ somehow manage to change your mind in the past minute or so?"_

_**I yell to the bastard amidst my struggle, "Shut up! Stop mocking me!"**_

_"Hoh…? Mocking __**you**__? __**Ha!**__**Please**__, you're __**a**__**mockery**__ of the human __**and**__ vampire races – a half-bred abomination that's better off __**dead**__… Yet and still, you have the __**audacity**__ to say that __**I'm**__ mocking __**you**__? Know your __**place**__ in this world, fledgling…__**and silence your ungrateful tongue! Darien, finish him off!**__"_

_**"****WHAT? DARIEN?" the snapping, beastly creature grabs onto my left arm, taking advantage of my mental bewilderment. I'm unable to breathe…I'm unable to think straight… "Who…or what are you?"**_

_The hungry monster licks my left arm like a greedy lion… The carnivorous charlatan eyes me with a golden gaze, claiming my arm as it's snack._

_"I…am hungry", hisses the carnivorous clone._

_**"****Stop this… I unable to defend myself, you coward!"**_

_"Neither could Father Christian, but you and your heartless grandfather took his life __**anyway**__", the beautiful beast parts his slimy jaws with a glowing ogle. "I owe you not a __**single**__ ounce of __**courtesy**__, Stuey-dear… I will __**take**__ my brother from you, __**kill**__ you __**and**__ your friends…and then we'll donate your __**butchered bodies to the Ferryman Rescue Charity Fund**__. I'm pretty sure __**your**__**sacrifice**__ will do 'Papa Valdo' some good."_

_"Please…let me go…" my heart's thumping with an abysmal rhythm._

_**The beautiful monster loses its patience with me, "SHUT UP! I'll hear no more of your excuses!"**_

_"Stop it… __**STOP IT!**__"_

_**"NO! NOM-NOM, DINNERTIME, NOM!" the ravenous imposter snaps its jaws into my defensive left limb, biting a spouting gash onto my forearm!**_

_**"****AAH!" my shriek of unbearable pain animates the night sky.**_

_**I awake from my nightmare in a cold sweat, "AAH!"**_

_My shriek of terror awakens my boy from slumber… He rubs his eyes, and notices my mentally unstable condition. Damien stands and hurries to my side, holding onto me with loving arms._

_"Daddy, it's all right…" his voice calms my fears, and I am able to slowly speed my heart rate back to normal. My Sweets gently places my head on his shoulder, petting my back like a little protector. "…It was just a dream, dear. Rest your nerves now, sweetie."_

_"Damien…it was horrible…"_

_"Shh! Tell me later, dear", he shushes me up with a kind breath._

_**This**__ is my boy… Not that __**monster**__ that I saw in my nightmare._

_That was __**far**__ from being a normal "bad dream"… It felt __**so**__**real**__ – __**way**__ too real to be considered "normal". I felt that monster's fangs being buried into my left forearm. It was a __**killing**__ pain – a sensation that I've __**never**__ felt before in my __**entire**__ life… I never want to experience that horrific event, __**ever**__ again._

* * *

><p><em>Stephen peeped through my hospital room door the entire time, not making a sound…<em>

One can only expect such skill from a vampire of his age. Then again, Steve's _always_ been the type to _snoop_ in on other people's business… Well, on _that_ note, I'll save my impressions for later.

"How is he, Steve?" asks the boss lady of the approaching Irishman.

_"Night terrors. He'll survive."_

"Night terrors can cause people to get _heart attacks_, you know", Raj flips through a newspaper, reading up on current events. He turns a page, coming to an article about the aftermath of the Willington Incident. "_Humph!_ _Figures_ – the media couldn't keep their hats on about the fight at the arena… From what this says, the company's… _Uh-oh!_"

Raj's concerns catch the attention of his peers.

_Stephen approaches his comrade, "What is it, Raj?"_

Yuvraj hands him the newspaper, "Take a look at this."

Stephen takes a gander at the newspaper article.

_He quotes with increasing shock, "The cataclysmic skirmish has totaled the J.P. McCartney Sports Center, leaving an outcome of… **1.1 million dollars in property damages in its blood-stained tracks?**"_

_"I never said it was going to pretty", reminds the Punjabi-Canadian radical._

_"I should've known the city would react to that, one way or the other", Stephen closes the newspaper, feeling a bit upset about the news. "Jesus Christ! Where are we gonna get **that** kind of paper from?"_

"Our budget will cover the charges", TJ lounges in a comfy reclining chair. He places his hands behind his head, releasing a light yawn. "_Ah…_ Man, these past few days have been pretty tough. I wonder how things are holding up at HQ."

_"Oh, that's right", Hennigan suddenly remembers an update he received from our association's informant not too long ago. "Drew said that Jo's been successfully detained. He won't be giving us any more problems."_

_Stephen has a seat in the couch against the western wall, "I sure hope so. The **last** thing we need is a repeat of Copa Cabana… I'm pretty sure 'the love birds' would think the same thing."_

"Cheers, indeed…Stevie", Damien's voice sounds from my opening room door. Everyone's attention is grasped by my boy's entrance. He closes the door with a ginger left hand, not making a single sound. "…Stuey's asleep, now. He was quite shaken up about a nightmare."

_"How did you get him to sleep so quickly?" noses Natalie._

"Crusniks have an _innate_ _ability_ to tap into a person's _subconscious_", he knowledgeably explains. Damien folds his arms, proud of his natural talent. "I gave Daddy a kiss on his forehead, and he fell into a _deep_ sleep… But, while my lips were pressed against his, I also saw a rather _disturbing_ cerebral image in my mind."

_Everyone becomes stricken with a curious vibe._

"What did you see, DC?" Johnny speaks for the others.

_"…I saw…another 'me'."_

"Another _'you'_?"

_"Yeah, but this 'me' was…**quite** unbearable and **insatiably** carnivorous… He bit at Stuart's arm in the dream, leaving a bleeding gash near his humerus. The wasted capillary blood tainted his bed sheets, and his scream lit the night sky after it was done – much like what you heard just a minute ago. Also, there was **another** **person** in the room…"_

"Who was it?" asks the Twins.

_"Some strange, serpent-voiced bloke – I couldn't see his face, though. His features, however… I get the distinct feeling that I've seen them **somewhere** before."_

"Try not to focus too much on it", John advises. "There's not enough profile information to narrow down our options. The only thing we know is that this guy has _'a serpent-like voice'_… And this _'other you_' – did it have a name?"

_"…The stranger called him 'Darien'", my boy lowers his head, feeling a bad omen creeping up his spine. Damien rakes his left fingers through his hair, placing his long mane behind his back. "He looked so much like me, but his eyes were lit with a faint golden glow. As for the stranger, **this** is what I could make of him… He wears sleeveless black priestly robes, sporting a set of well-defined arm muscles; strong face and chin; average bodybuilder's physique. His face was obscured by darkness, but I managed to perceive everything else."_

_Hennigan becomes gravely solemn._

_"…I know who it is", John's knowledge grasps the party's attention. "Those features are all too familiar to me. The man you're describing, DC, is the Archbishop of the Church, Thaddeus Elmer Beatles."_

**_Everyone but John and the Twins are set into a state of shock!_**

**_"Did you just…?"_**_ Natalie lowers her voice, remembering that she's in a hospital. "…Did you just say 'Thaddeus Beatles'? As in my ex-boyfriend…?"_

The baby-faced radical-in-training nods, "That's right. I should've briefed you guys on this days ago."

_"What do you know?"_

"Well, Mother Katherine…the Count, Valdo von Dracula, _resurrected_ Thaddeus just recently. His existence of darkness, _Dirty Diana_, has the power to resuscitate the dead – _human and vampire alike._ The 'Thaddeus' that the Count resurrected _isn't the same man from 500 years ago_. He's been _changed_ – _No, he's been **corrupted** by Dirty Diana's 'Chaos Devotion' spell_. Valdo's _using_ him to do his dirty work, making _good use_ of Thad's existence of water, _the Gold Experience_."

_"So, Good Ol' Thad's mustered up an existence, eh?" snickers the impressed Irish nightwalker. "Hmm! I wonder what he can do with his little power."_

"The Gold Experience is a _'recording existence'_ – a special genre found in the _'D + Class'_. All those with a D + blood type are capable of such talent."

_"You seem to be well-versed with his existence", notices Yuvraj._

"I _should_ be… _I faced him for the position of 'archbishop' not too long ago_."

_"You? **You** were next in line to be the archbishop…?"_

"I was _that_ devoted to the Church's cause, Raj. Count Valdo, in his doubts, revived Thaddeus and pit us in mortal combat… As you can _probably_ already tell, I _lost_ that battle."

_"But you're such a strong existence user", mentions Damien in his confusion. "How did you manage to lose to a newbie like him?"_

"The Gold Experience's power –_ the ability to record_ – is more dangerous than you can _possibly_ image. Father Christian's supernatural muscle _pales_ to Thaddeus's unique ability… He perceives whatever you do, records your action with his existence, _and lashes it right back at you_ – _twice as strong, twice as tough_… I thought that I was going to die when I lost, but he spared my life. However, that didn't stop him from _belittling_ me."

"_Tch!_ That sounds _just_ like him, all right", Natalie folds her arms in a feminine stroke of disgust. "I haven't the _faintest_ idea why I was attracted to him; _however_, it looks like I had _'the right idea'_… Henry wasn't _man_ enough for me, and he was _missing a few screws_. Listening to Pope Leonard's _lies_ got to his head, in _more_ ways than one… But, Thaddeus being _evil_? Even when he attacked Lady Maribel, it was only because he was hungry – _vampire_ _impulses and whatnot_. I _can't_ _excuse_ the deed, but he was _still acting 'in his right mind'_…so to speak."

_"I forgot to mention one last thing…" Damien's dark expressions sparks their attention. "…Thaddeus is out for my heart, which would explain **why** he said this … 'You're in the way, Stuart… You can kill one of the highest ranked clergymen of the Church, but you can't even fulfill this little one's dreams of matrimony?' …It was said with an** excess** amount of emphasis, almost as if Thaddeus were harboring feelings of **jealousy**."_

_Stephen scratches his head with a confused leer, "**Jealousy?** Jealous for what?"_

_"Stevie…look at me, dear…" Damien cradles himself with coquettish flare, sending all the men in the room into 'hormonal overload'. "Mmm! Sss, don't you wanna **touch** me, boys?"_

_"Yes", responds our male travelling partners, shooting each other dirty looks afterwards._

_"Hey, what are **you** three getting all excited for?" Stephen points at John, Yuvraj and Theodore. "The last I checked, 1 of ya is married, 1 of ya is soon to be a dad, and the other's sexing up the boss."_

_John folds his arms and turns his back to his seniors, "Whatever! I don't think DC would go for a bunch of **grumpy old men**, anyhow!"_

_"We're **all** old, you dimwit!" snaps Yuvraj._

_"No, **I'm** old and **sexy** – **you** geezers are just a bunch of **mummies**", John takes pride in his good looks, sporting a boyish smirk. "Hmm! 'Daddies' **always** win over 'duds'. Got that **memorized**? Or, do you need a 'daily planner' to **help** you remember the info, **old timers**?"_

_"Come here!" Stephen and Yuvraj attempt to tackle John to the ground._

_John leaps away, stylishly sporting his gymnastic talents – a perfect retreating flip that causes his assailants to hit the ground facefirst. The acrobatic radical lands perfectly on his feet, finishing his amazing display of dexterity. Johnny and the Twins applaud their fellow trainee's performance, receiving a gracious bow from the proud performer._

_TJ snickers at the sight of John's arrogance, "Hm-hm-hm! I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you, John… Everyone knows that **I'm** one of the youngest members of Infinity. That makes you **my** senior… I guess that labels **all three of you** as 'grumpy old men' – Captain Polident, Sultan Alzheimer's and Tapioca Tenderoni."_

_"**You're** the 'tenderoni' in this conversation, ya little cougar chaser!" Stephen points with a smug grin._

_"Cougar chaser…?" TJ bucks up to his superior in offense._

**_"Yeah, cougar chaser!"_**_ John and Yuvraj joins Stephen's side._

_Natalie, Johnny, Damien and the Twins look at the brutes' hormonal bickering with wordless discomfiture… They don't know whether to stop them or walk away._

_"I'm not a cougar chaser!" bickers TJ._

**_"Yes, you are!"_**_ argues his seniors._

_"No, I'm not!"_

**_"Yes, you are!"_**

_"No, I'm not!"_

**_"Yes, you are!"_**

_Natalie loses her patience, **"That's quite enough!"**_

_The boys are silenced by their founder's chastening voice… The humbled quartet looks to their superior, beholding a disenchanted ogle. Stephen, John, Yuvraj, and Theodore can feel the tension in the air._

_"Steve, JoMo, Raj, TJ, people are trying to sleep. Either be quiet for the **rest** of the evening, or exit the building. You should be **glad** that the night shift hasn't decided to interfere with your little 'catfight'; the Director would've most **definitely** asked you guys to leave the premises. Not to mention that it'd put a **huge** **damper** on our reputation. I usually lower my defenses, expecting the 'unexpected' with you four **stooges** in my presence, but not something as **childish** as this. Stephen, you're **just** as old as **I** am – meaning that you're **too old** to be arguing with your juniors. John, Yuvraj, mindless behavior isn't the 'Infinity way'. And Theodore…"_

"Yes, I know…" the youth minister laughs at himself for engaging in such juvenile activity. "…I should've reacted _more gracefully_ than that."

_"Actually, this was all **my** fault", Damien extends his admission of guilt with an humble tone. "I shouldn't have riled them up like that. I've come to realize that vampires are **far** more excitable than humans… Still, it was a charming little act – seeing these four **comedians** have a dispute over **someone they can't have**."_

Stephen becomes cavalier and approaches my boy with smug saunter, "_Ha!_ I could take ya off Stu's hands if I _wanted_ to. Landing cuties like you is me specialty, little fella."

_"Oh, really?" Damien gives his approaching comrade a crimson-eyed glare, signifying his annoyances._

"Yeah, now come here and give your old buddy a hug, ya little–", before he can even manage to lay a finger on my boy, Damien allows his Crusnik instincts to take over – he circles around his pursuer to the right, and kicks the ginger in his left knee pit, forcing Stephen into a kneeling position. Damien connects his attack, placing the flame-haired brute in a _modified double chickenwing submission hold_. _Stephen suffers the agony of stretching pectorals and shoulder joints._ _"Yowch! I was just trying to give you a hug, man! Let go of me, will you…?"_

_"Yeah, a hug…I believe that", Damien releases Stephen from his submission hold, excusing himself from the party. He heads towards the men's restroom. "I'm going to go freshen up a bit. All of this 'excitement' is starting to get under my skin. Guys, keep a close eye on these 'silly little boys' for me."_

_"Sure thing", nods the handsome Strigoi. Johnny notices how pathetic Stephen looks tending to his stretched muscles and aching joints. The jokester decides to take a crack at his superior's shortcoming. "Well, at least he didn't 'break a leg'. Right?"_

_"Shut up, Curtis!" Stephen growls._

_The Irishman hears the derisive giggles of his fellow peers from behind him. The ginger shoots them a burning-eyed ogle, making the three stooges silence their tittering._

_"Humph! I thought so", Stephen stands up and excuses himself from the scene. "I'm going to get some fresh air. I'm about done with this scene."_

_John, Yuvraj and Theodore silently snicker under their breath… Well, one thing's for certain – We'll **never** have a single boring moment with **these** **clowns** in our midst…_

_…Still, on a night like this, one cannot ignore that there could be **someone** watching from the shadows._

_("Hmm! So, this is my 'big brother'?") the carnivorous charlatan eyes my fiancé from the darkness of the hallway. Obscured from sight, Darien uses the shadows to his advantage…and tails his 'brother' with quiet feet. ("So pretty, so **fair**… So sad and alone… I can't wait to give you 'a hug', my dear, **sweet** big brother.")_

_Darien liquefies his physical composition, becoming a creeping golden slime… He slithers after his brother with stealthy approach, unbeknownst to his target. The hallways suddenly become chilly, alerting my boy to look over his shoulder…_

_…He sees nothing, ("Humph! Must be my imagination.")_

__Damien continues forward, turning the corner to enter the men's restroom.__

* * *

><p><em>My fiancé flicks the light switch to his right, bringing light to the darkened area.<em>

"Ahem!" he clears his throat, before checking his profile in the mirror.

The light suddenly goes dim of a second, signifying a minor electrical shortage in the system. Damien dismisses the occurrence as a glitch in the system… _Or, at least that's what he believes it to be_.

_"Oh, Damien…" hisses the voice of the liquefied clone. My fiancé turns around to a very disturbing image – the watery materialization of his corrupted double. Damien steps back, recognizing this creature as the carnivorous beast from my nightmare. Darien opens his arms to his 'brother', delighted to see him for the first time "…Come, give your 'little brother' a hug. I've been so **very** eager to meet you."_

_Damien escapes the charlatan's embrace by dodging to his left, "Stay away from me!"_

_Darien places his hands on the mirror to avoid any physical harm, as his 'brother' backs away from him. The golden-eyed imposter begins to sob, psychologically toying with Damien's emotions… Darien's sobbing becomes a hair-raising giggle, and his facial features chemically alternate into a **grisly** appearance._

_"What…are you?" Darien answers his brother's curiosity, turning around to show him a slimy mouth of bloodthirsty fangs. Damien steps back, wondering what kind of life form his challenger is… All of a sudden, the idea comes to him. "You're…a creature created from the archbishop's existence, aren't you?"_

_"That's right, big brother."_

_"I'm **not** your brother!" Damien stands with his back facing the entrance; Darien stands on the opposite side. "You **bit** my fiancé in his nightmare, you sick freak! I **won't** excuse such foul behavior!"_

_"**Ooh!** You wanna **fight** about it, big brother?" teases the charlatan, licking his slimy chops at his prey._

_"Hmm! Like ideas – maybe we **are** brothers, after all", Damien summons a blade of crimson energy into his right hand, holding onto its grip with both hands._

_"**Ooh!** My turn, my turn!" Darien does the same thing, but in a more disgusting manner… He liquefies a blade of gold with a watery core in his hands. Damien lifts his right eyebrow, impressed by what he sees. The charlatan single-handedly twirls his blade by its grip. "This is so **cool**! Your powers are pretty nifty, big brother… And now…**I will take your life, using your power against you!**"_

_Darien charges forward with uncanny speed, forcing my boy into the defense!_

_Their steel clashes, but not a single sound is heard from outside the restroom door… Darien has clogged every corner of the doorway with an excess of his bodily ooze. This forbids any sound to escape **or** enter the washroom. It also forbids any entrance or exiting. Nothing can get in, nothing can get out._

**_"Hiss-hee-hee-hee! Isn't this fun, big brother!"_**_ excites the golden-eyed charlatan, as their energies begin exhausting from their clashed blades. Damien feels the supernatural sting of his clone's power grazing his skin, making him jitter with a light pain. Darien notices his brother's struggle. "**Ooh!** Somebody getting tired **already**?"_

Damien holds his ground, regardless of the pain that he feels. He thinks strategically, looking around for any good evasive openings… Unfortunately, he's unable to move around freely in such a small area.

_("**Shit!** There isn't enough room in here! With this much space, I'm only able to fight at **0.5%** – That's not even enough to graze this thing's **fingernails**! **Ugh! Come on, Damien!** You've gotten yourself out of tighter situations,** so use your goddamned head!**")_

**_"Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha! Come on, big brother!"_**_ excites the bloodthirsty doppelgänger, snapping its grisly set of fangs at my boy's face. **"I thought you were supposed to be bigger and stronger than me! Maybe I should provoke you with a little 'bite'! NOM-NOM-NOM!"**_

**_"Want to 'bite' something, do you?"_**_ Damien's anger begins to excite his Crusnik blood, causing his power exhaustion to greatly expand. His clone begins to panic, feeling his 'brother's anger pushing him to his knees. "If you want something to **'bite'** on something so badly…**then, sink your teeth into this!**"_

_Damien's power pins his clone onto its knees, sending chills up its spine, "**Hiss!** **What is this…?** How could you **possibly** have this much **power**, big brother…?" _

**_"Because I'm the original, not some useless copy!" my fiancé power exhaustion repels his imposter with a massive electrical discharge of crimson matter. "Battle Dance 01: Unmerciful Kiss – Activate!" _**

**_"AAH!"_**_ the powerful discharge smashes Darien backfirst into the wall, causing his physical composition to break into a mass of golden slime. Damien withdraws his blade back into his bloodstream, believing that a chemically imbalanced creature is no match for him… All of a sudden, the ooze begins to mock my boy with laughter. Damien's eyes widen a bit, realizing that this isn't over. "**Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!** You thought that this was over, didn't you? Well, big brother, you had the **wrong** idea about me! I'm not as weak as you **think** I am… But, that's okay. All I have to do…**is** **'teach you a lesson'**."_

_Damien is disturbed by the clone's twisted declaration._

**_"Teach me a–? What are you talking about…?"_**

_"Your 'inner circle', Damien… Those **precious** little friends of yours, **and** your sleeping fiancé, **must all die**! I've a mission to carry out, and you're not helping me by being resilient. So, I'll punish you…**by taking their lives, my dear, sweet big brother**."_

**_"I won't let you hurt them!" vows the infuriated protector._**

_"**Ha!** As if you can stop me!" the ooze creeps up the wall, across the ceiling and towards the entrance. Damien runs up to the restroom door, attempting to open it up; however, it appears to be jammed shut by the golden excess covering its edges. Darien's laughter mocks his 'brother's' every effort to escape. "**Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…! **Try all you like, you're **not** getting out of that washroom! You might as well just sit back and watch them **all** die! Hope you don't tire yourself out, big brother! **Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!**"_

__**_"Open up!" Damien bangs on the restroom door, his blood beginning to excite with anger. "Open up, or I'll break this door down! You hear me, you sick freak…? Open up, I say!"_**__

* * *

><p><em>"The moon's high tonight, Lord", Stephen has a one-on-one conversation with the Father about his past actions. He stands on the hospital rooftop, allowing the night air to brush against his strong frame. The eternal Irishman closes his eyes, and takes in a deep breath. "…Ah! I love the breeze of a summer night's moon… Brings back a ton of memories from the past – some good, some bad."<em>

_"What are you doing all the way up here, old man?" a familiar voice comes from the Irishman's rear. Stephen closes his eyes, as his fellow troublemakers join him at his side. John pats his senior's back with a masculine left hand. "Sorry, Steve. We caused a scene back there. That wasn't proper of us – Arguing over something stupid like that. That ticked Nattie off to the point that she sent us up here to apologize."_

_"No need, fellas. We're ages and ages up in age, but we're still men… We can't help our impulses, and we can do some pretty illogical things; however, we **never** leave the side of those closest to us. We're there when in times of need; we're advisors to our juniors; we're teachers of what's right and wrong. Though many of us tread a narrow path tainted with blood, **we** choose the one less taken. The road to righteousness… We're brothers to the end, my friends."_

_"That was a masterful display of poetry", congratulates the time bender. Yuvraj slightly remembers someone saying that in the past. "I'm curious… That sounded so familiar. Where have I heard that from?"_

_"Old Man Fred said that to me on the day of his execution….before the executioner pulled the latch."_

_"Oh, that's right…" TJ remembers. "…Those were the last words he said before his 'death by the rope'. The Church had him executed in Rutherford Plaza amidst a large crowd of Gideonites. When his neck snapped, the Gideonites in the crowd raved, believing his threat had been brought to an untimely end."_

_"But, we all know that to be wrong", a familiar voice sounds from the air above them._

_The reprimanded foursome looks to the sky, beholding the grand descending of their senior officer – Lord Alexander Broaden Crosse, Damien's great-uncle and one of the last survivors of the fabled **Crusnik Hunts**… It was over 3 centuries ago – the age where the Church hunted the widely spread race of vampire eaters down to the last man. Eater after eater fell at the hands of the cold-blooded clergymen, some not even old enough to access their blood's true power… It was Lord Valdo himself that led the Hunts that wiped the race off the face of the earth – All, except for one revered clan._

_The Crosse Family – a legacy of vampire eaters so powerful, so dangerous that the Church's morale was cut in half. Some of the Church's strongest clergymen **fell** on this night, 3 centuries ago…_

_…The battle left the Pope himself, Leonard de Bleus, with a faint heart. It was Lord Alexander that did it to him, by draining the Pope of his chiropteran genetics using Robber Soul's special technique – **Heart of Glass**. Pope Leonard has played his ailment off as 'a mere heart defect' for centuries, never telling a single soul that his retirement from the battlefield…was due to the one Crusnik he was **unable** to kill. Though he's safely cooped in the comfort of his office, the cruel memory haunts him on a daily basis… However, to the legendary Crusnik, that memory is a constant reminder of how "cowardly" the Church becomes when they lose all manner of hope._

_The obscured Crusnik lands on his feet upon a light breeze of wind, instantly being respected by his subordinates. Lord Alexander looks down to his prostrated comrades, feeling unworthy of such respect._

_"Hmph! You give me more credit than I deserve", the humble eater remains selfless, calling them to their feet with folded arms. "Stand up, men. This submissive display of reverence isn't my style."_

_"We understand, Lord Alexander", Stephen apologizes for his juniors, standing to his feet with his line of comrades. "What brings you here, sir? Felt like seeing the countryside?"_

_"Where's my nephew? I wish to see him."_

_"He's downstairs, freshening up in the restroom", Raj reports._

_"I see. I request that you take me to the remainder of your party."_

_"Why the rush, sir?" asks the inquisitive John._

_"…I've been sent here to assist in the execution of one Thaddeus Elmer Beatles." _

**_The report sets his juniors in a state of shock!_**

**_"Thaddeus? He's here…?" John snarls with triggered emotions of hated._**

_"That's right, young man… Mother Katherine should've told you that a minute or so ago. If not, **he's** probably anticipating his first move. That means trouble for our fellow radicals. Now, please, escort me to the others, at once. Time is of the essence."_

_"Yes, sir!" salutes his juniors with a right fist over their hearts._

**_"I won't allow you to leave this rooftop!"_**_ a familiar voice calls to them from the top of the nearest building. The four Infinity radicals look to the east, witnessing the grand entrance of the archbishop upon a trail of golden liquids. Thaddeus surfs over their heads, coming to a soft landing upon his living bed of water. The radicals turn to the image of the one-man blockade, as he faces them with a cold, hooded sneer. "I won't allow you to leave this rooftop… **And ruin Darien's first mission**."_

_Thaddeus excites his living golden streams, causing them to expand from his body as a watery territory._

**_"Terrorize! The Gold Experience!"_**_ the radicals watch as the fluid existence spreads to 876 bm of expansion area. This isn't good – there are people inside of the hospital, and it's causing them to suffer mental shock. The dark ecclesiast delights in what he's doing, allowing the Gold Experience to drain the mental energies of the humans trapped inside of it. The radicals are infuriated by the vampire's heartless actions… Thaddeus is humored by their anger. "Hiss-hee-hee-hee! Look at those crossed expressions… Speaking of 'cross', when was the last time I saw you this fired up, Lord Alexander?"_

_"Rome, January 12th, 1699 – the day that I left you half dead and **half** a man", the legendary Crusnik's eyes glow with a faint crimson light, signifying his anger. "I've heard news of your endeavors, water bender. It appears that you **fail** to keep your noise level down when **threatening innocent children**… Brother N'Dour's far too young, **and far too kind to receive such harsh treatment from the likes of you…** And you **dare** to make a copy of my nephew – **My precious little one?** Oh no…it's not **us** who will be 'kept from leaving'–!"_

**_"Hiss! It's you, ya filthy jackoff!"_**_ Stephen hisses with righteous fury, allowing his emerald brambles to materialize on his right forearm. Yuvraj draws his treasured whip, TJ mentally summons a ghostly shell of diamonds around his body, and John's eyes shine with a furious glow of ionic plasma energy. Lord Alexander unfolds his arms, revealing that his nails have become razor-sharp claws. The five radicals stand as one against the 1-man army, not activating the full extent of their existences. Stephen preps his fellow radicals with benevolent verse. "Men. Keep your existences as low as you possibly can… Innocent people are in this building, and it's bad enough that they're suffering because of **this bastard**. We can do this if we work together."_

_"Hoh…? Is that what you believe, Master of the Green Day Briars?" laughs the smug water bender, allowing his living fluids to drip from his left hand. The fluids separate into four different pools of golden liquid… They then take form, growing in chemical composition by the second. The archbishop explains the terms of this encounter. "I hate to fight alone, so I'm adding four more members to my side. This should even things out, and give us both an equal advantage… Wouldn't you agree?"_

_The bodies of fluid form…into golden-eyed doppelgängers of Stephen, Theodore, Yuvraj, and John!_

_"What in the name of–?" swears the time bender, feeling the same amount of intimidation as his peers._

_Lord Alexander, however, isn't moved by this display of power, "Hmph! All in all, this just proves how **weak** you really are… Clergymen are known to fight single-handedly, flinging their power around aimlessly. You, on the other hand, play it smart, evening opposing numbers using your ability to record. It's a wise move, but I'm at a dilemma on all of this."_

_"Really now, old friend? I'm curious… What's your dilemma?"_

_"I don't know whether to admire your tactics…" the ancient Crusnik's nails begin to glow with a furious crimson light, signifying that he's about to go into the offensive. "…Or just sit back and **laugh** at how charmingly **facetious** your existence really is!"_

**_"Grr…! What did you just say to me…?" angers the archbishop, causing his copies to become hostile._**

_"He said your power ain't shit, ya bum sucker!" Stephen sarcastically answers, as his fellow radicals stand at his side. Their eyes glow with a hunger for battle. "We owe you a beating for making crummy little copies of us, but we'll let Lord Alexander take you on… Besides, your lame imitations should be enough to satisfy our anger!"_

_"Then, follow us!" Stephen's imposter rallies his fellow doppelgängers to take to the sky, leaping over the side of the building. The originals chase after them, descending on dancing trajectories of wind. The copies softly land on living pools of golden water; the originals do the same thing, upon gentle airstreams. Standing several feet apart from each other, the nearly identical sides gaze into the eyes of their rivals. "There's only room for one team of 'troublemakers' in this town. Let's see whose **really** qualified to be 'the original set'."_

_The original Stephen rallies his allies with words of wisdom._

_"Remember, men – keep your existences down to almost nothing. These things talk a lot of noise, but they're powers are carbon copies of our own… I'm **sure** you should know yourselves well enough by now. Right?"_

_"Yes", nods his allies._

_"Good. Now, let's show them that 'the real deal' **never** loses the battle!"_

_The two opposing sides are now locked in a standoff._

_Meanwhile, on the rooftop, Lord Alexander faces an old enemy with thoughts about where Father Andrew could possibly be, ("He said he'd be here by now. Damn it, Andrew! If you've backed out on me…I'll kill you when I'm done with this hooded jester's bloody antics!")_

_"Why are you so spacy this evening, old man?" the archbishop's voice catches the Crusnik's undivided attention. Thaddeus surrounds himself with a film of golden water, creating a defensive barrier. "I'm already taking defensive measures… Shouldn't you be **attempting** to attack me by now? Or, are you **petrified** with fear?"_

_"Don't get cavalier with me, water master! What? Can't an old man think in peace? Does having a mind of your own **also** go against the Church's **lackluster** set of rules and regulations? Oh, wait a second – silly me. That actually **does** go against a rule not written **anywhere** in your tenets of faith."_

_"What are you getting at?" snarls the water master._

_"I'm surprised you don't know this by now. It's Rule # 0. And I quote: 'As a member of the Church, it is mandatory to lose your balls to exact the cause of a maniacal terrorist. You live, speak, breathe, worship and adore this man – even going as far as the bed with him, just to satisfy his uncontrollable sexual desires.' In other words, above all…**you**, Archbishop Thaddeus Elmer Beatles, are nothing more…**than the Church and the Count's #1 bottom bitch!**"_

**_"What…? How dare you!" snaps the archbishop. _**

_The legend's body begins to glow with an eerie crimson aura, "You don't intimidate me, regardless of what you pull from under your glossy little sleeve. Remember that…**as I rip your body to a bloody mass of death!**"_

**_Lord Alexander holds his right hand forward, materializing a poleaxe of crimson matter into his grasp!_**

_The iconic creature holds his weapon in quarterstaff fashion, rearing his head blade to the right and his butt spike to the left. He places himself in a leftward side stance, facing his opponent with old-fashioned flare._

_"Hoh…? That's the same axe that you used to take me down ages ago…" smiles the water master with a serpentine hiss. Thaddeus points his right index finger at the ageless veteran, calling him forward with rousing pitch. "…But, not this time! **Dance**, my precious existence! **Dance like you've never danced before!**"_

_"Hmph! How smug of you…" the ageless Crusnik's existence unravels the threading of his shirt, exposing his strong upper bodily frame. Batwings protrude from his back, and his hair stands up on end. From what his obscured image shows, his skin has become white as snow… He's now a full-fledged eater. Lord Alexander speaks with a spine-chilling two-toned voice. "…Now, I will have you pay for your crimes against my family and my friends… **With your spilled blood!**"_

__**__The legendary Crusnik charges into battle with inhuman speeds, accelerating beyond 200 MPH! The archbishop approaches with the same level of aggression, trailing a field of golden liquid from his shelled body! The two powers clash – the eater's cold steel and the water master's saturated fist! The exhaustion of their supernatural elements light the night sky, sending a chaotic tremor across the land!__**__

* * *

><p><em>I am awakened from slumber by the quaking of the earth…<em>

_I instantly sit up in bed, feeling the presence of an activated existence. Natalie enters my hospital room, approaching my bed with a fast walk._

"What's wrong, Nattie? What's going on?"

_"No time to explain – I **have** to get you out of here", all of a sudden, I notice something wrong with Natalie's eyes. I freeze up, wondering how her beautiful eyes…became discolored and pus-filled like that. She smiles at me, tilting her head in a curious manner. "What's wrong with you, Stuey-dear? Here, let me take that IV out of your tunnel and get you to safety."_

_All of a sudden, my room door slams against the wall, startling the both of us!_

_My eyes widen at… **The sight of an injured Natalie/**_

**_"Nattie…? How are you there, and…?"_**

_"Get away from him, **you monster!**" the boss lady's right hand steams with righteous anger, sweltering the painting of the threshold. Natalie's healing factor quickly nurses her wounds, returning her to a combatable state. She stands strongly, shooting her look-alike a fierce, burning eyed stare. "Didn't you hear me? I said…**get away from my friend!**"_

_Natalie aims her right palm at the look-alike, shooting ribbons of flame from her fingers! The look-alike hisses with great terror, before being bounded by the flame around its wrists, ankles and throat! Natalie pins the hissing charlatan to the wall, as it loses its composition and is revealed to be a mass of golden liquid!_

_"Stuart, get away from there!" taking her advice, I eject my IV line from its tunnel, climb out of bed and run to her side. The charlatan reforms into the image of my boy, screaming with intense pain! I'm stunned beyond all words. "Don't lose it, Stu! That's **not** Damien – it's that **thing** from your dream, Darien!"_

_"What…? You mean…**that's**…?"_

_"The archbishop of the Church is here, and he sent that thing to assassinate us!" seriously explains the lady founder, as she backtracks the transpired events. "It's a living remnant of Archbishop Beatles's existence of water, the Gold Experience. This one was modeled after Damien, and we thought it was **him** coming to speak with us; however, that's **not** how things went…"_

**_***A few minutes ago…***_**

_He approached us from the restrooms, walking and behaving just like Damien._

_"Where are the other boys? Taking a little stroll?"_

When he asked that question, it made me a little suspicious. Normally, Damien doesn't address things like that – he leaves it alone, knowing that everyone has their obligations in life. I didn't say anything, but Johnny humored him with a witty answer.

_"They've been sent to the rooftop with 'Mr. Moonshine' himself. What took you so long in there, DC?"_

_"Girls need their 'powder break', and boys need their 'moment of silence'", his smart little answer tickled the boys, but not me. Damien's sense of humor's **much** more sophisticated and sarcastic than that. He would rather bite off of a person's shortcomings, making them seem funny in a sense. This 'Damien' was far too smug and **arrogant** to be my best friend. "Nattie-Poo, why do you look so grim? It looks like you've a lot on your mind, dear."_

_"Nothing, just wondering when Damien will get back."_

_"What are you talking about, Boss Lady?" snickers Jonathan._

_"Yeah, are you all **righ–!**" seconds Joshua, before strings of liquid pierce through their our comrades' chests! That is when I was fully awakened to the fact that we were standing in the midst of an imposter! Joshua's last words before passing onto the ground broke my heart… "Damien… What have you…done to…?"_

_"Nighty-night, boys", the three rookies fell onto the ground, but I could already tell that they weren't dead. This imposter is an amateur – he nailed them in a bunch of points that aren't fatal to a vampire. At best, the boys are slowly recovering using their healing factor. However, feeling that he's already won, he approached me and attack me in the same manner! "Time for you to sleep as well, Nattie-Poo…!"_

**_***…Back to the present***_**

_"I endure the pain, but I lessened it using my healing factor's ability to reduce physical damage. I also fell to the ground, but my wound began recovering at a rapid pace. That's when this bastard took my image and entered your hospital room. He played on the commotion on the rooftop, making it seem as if he was coming to escort you to safety. However, that was falsely done – there would be a team of nurses at his side if that were the case, but it appears as if every human in this hospital is suffering mental shock."_

_"You mean someone's activated their existence…?" I shriek in fright, my head tingling with pain afterwards. "Ow! My head… I'm still weak!"_

**_The rabid imposter's becoming livid with animalistic rage, "HISS-RRAAAAAAAHH…!"_**

_"I'll hold this bastard against the wall, while you go and get your man out of the restroom", Natalie tightens her fiery hold on the monster, giving me some time by exhausting her mental strength. She begins to feel the pressure getting to her brain, but she's retaining her composure for the sake of her friends. "Get out of here! Damien's still stuck inside the restroom. Use your physical strength to force the door open."_

_"But, I'm not strong enough to–" I begin in doubt._

_"Stop **bellyaching** and get him out of there, **hurry**!" I nod to her, leaving without another word. Natalie falls to her knees, feeling the mental exhaustion of using her existence without the activation of her territory. However, she stands to her feet and continues her mental defenses. "I won't back down… I'm **not** a weak little princess, and I'm **surely** **not** some flimsy little pushover! I'm a woman of my **word** – and **that's** what I'll be till the day I breathe my **last breath of life!** **So, I will stand and keep you pinned until they get back!**"_

_The charlatan laughs amidst his pain, sending a freezing chill up Natalie's spine!_

**_"Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…! Is that what you think, Nattie-Poo?"_**

_"What are you talking about?" snarls the tough lady founder._

**_"You may have me pinned now, but you're moments away from losing consciousness! When that happens, I'll make sure to rip your body to shreds! You hear me…? You are all going to die! Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!"_**

_Natalie feels her knees giving way…but, she won't give up. She made a promise to me, and she plans to keep it, even if her life is at stake!_

**_"Damn you, shut up!" Natalie excites her flaming bind even more, causing the doppelgänger to suffer an intense amount of pain. Darien's scream echoes throughout the entire hospital. "No one hurts my friends and gets away with it! I may not be able to do much, but I'm going to leave burns in places that you've never even heard of!"_**

**_"AAAHH…!" the monster's scream resonances into the night sky._**

**_"Now, FEVER BIND COFFIN!" Natalie's anger covers the charlatan's entire body with a shell of fire._**

**_Darien's screams become wild, as he suffers the boiling agony of Natalie's fire, "AAAHHH…!"_**

_Despite her efforts, Natalie's slowly starting to lose consciousness, ("Ugn! Shit… I'm starting to fade! But, I can't right now… I have to keep going until the boys get back…")_

_Natalie suddenly feels a set of three hands – two on her shoulders and one of her back… The founder looks over her shoulder to see her three rookies coming to her aid. Joshua stands to her left, Jonathan stands to her right, and Johnny stands behind her as a back support._

_"Keep…going…" cheers the weakened Jonathan, as he joins his fellow rookies in syncing his mental energy with his superior. "…We've…got your back, Boss Lady."_

_"You can…do it…" agrees Joshua. _

_"Keep it up…for the others", nods Johnny._

_Amidst the beast's horrific laughter, the founder finds joy in having her rookies' supporting._

_"Boys…thank you, very much", Natalie looks forward at the pinned charlatan, becoming annoyed with its rabid laughter. She excites her modified Fever Bind, causing it to clog the charlatan's mouth. This gags the creature from making another sound, causing it to become silent. However, she's starting to fade even quicker now… Her body begins to give out. "Now…maybe my head won't hurt…as much…"_

_After a few more seconds of struggle, the foursome's minds give out… The founder and her rookies fall to the ground in a loss of mental strength. They'll recover soon, but not as quickly as the slowly reforming remnant._

__**___In the form of a boiling glob of ooze, Darien's composition takes form by the second.___**__

* * *

><p><strong><em>"Unmerciful Kiss!"<em>**_ Damien shoots another discharge of crimson matter from his blade, but the results are still the same. The door appears to have suffered a few burns, but it's not budging a single inch. My fiancé falls onto his knees, feeling the strain of using his existence without an activated territory. He holds his head, feeling a bit faint. "**Ugh!** I better take a break… I'm pretty sure someone will come for me…if there's anyone out there at all…"_

_I arrive to the restroom door, and begin banging on it, "Damien! Damien, are you in there, love?"_

_He hears my voice…_

_…That means that his efforts weren't all for naught. His crimson matter somehow managed to burn through a large portion of the ooze surrounding the threshold. _

_Damien approaches the door, stunned to hear my voice, "Stuart…? Aren't you supposed to be in bed…?"_

_"I'm not sleeping a wink with you stuck in there. Get into a stall, babes – I'm going to breech the door!"_

_"Okay…" Damien steps into the nearest stall, closes the door and waits patiently._

_"Here I go!" I rear my right fist behind me, and toss it forward with all of my might. **"HA…!"**_

_My efforts **smash** the door into shambles! Pieces of its former frame splatter against the far wall! Damien opens his stall to behold my heroic entrance… My fiancé runs into my arms, glad to see that I'm back on my feet. I place my right hand onto my boy's head, feeling the release of knowing that he's all right._

_"I thought I was **never** going to get out of here", smiles my fiancé, burying his head in my chest._

"Oh, come now. Why would I leave you stranded in a _toilet_ of all places?"

_My humorous question tickles him, "Ah-ha-ha-ha! Let's get out of here, Daddy."_

"Good form, love", I escort my boy out of the restroom, only to run into a very disturbing image.

**_Darien stands before us, smoking from extended exposure to Natalie's Fever Bind Coffin!_**

**_"You!"_**_ Damien becomes territorial, standing in front of me like the little protector that he is._

_I become gravely serious with the imposter, "**What** did you do to Natalie, you slimy little **freak** **of nature?**"_

_Darien hisses in amusement, "Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha! You needn't worry about the **flaming** **fish** and her **happy** **little helpers**, dears. They did quite the smashing job at keeping me pinned to the wall… But, that was all that they could do in their current state. At the moment, the hospital's **filled** with suffering patients and staff members. I'm pretty sure they should **all be** **dead** within the hour at this rate."_

_"So, I was right all along… Someone **really** **has** activated their territory."_

_"That's right, Stuey-dear", hisses the charlatan, rousing my boy's anger._

_"…Don't call my fiancé 'Stuey-dear', **you slimy scumbag of a phony!**"_

_"Oh, but I **have** to be nice to my **'future brother-in-law'**, right?" pouts the immature remnant, switching into an insane fit of laughter. "Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Family matters, **right**? Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!"_

**_Damien darts forward with an unforgiving right hand, powering Darien to the ground!_**

_The charlatan's head smashes onto the tile floor, splattering into a small pool of ooze; however, his head quickly regains its chemical composition! Darien butts his brother in the stomach with his feet, pushing my fiancé backwards with colossal force!_

**_"DAAH!"_**_ Damien screams, as his body flies through the air._

**_"Damien, I've got you!"_**_ I blitz to my left, standing directly behind him with opened arms._

_I take the liberty to become a human shield for my fiancé, successfully catching him out of midflight. The impact causes me to slide backwards! However, my strong, solid physique works its magic, allowing us to come to a quick stop. Damien places his feet on the ground, looking at the image of the chemically imbalanced charlatan. _

_"Stuart, get out of here!" my fiancé charges forward into battle in an attempt to protect me._

_He leaps forward into a graceful forward flip, landing a missile dropkick to the defending forearms of his mindless imposter. Wow! I guess I can see why Booker was so impressed with Damien's footwork._

_Damien bounds off of his brother's forearms, escape a retaliating pierce of living strings of golden fluids!_

_He yells to me in midflight, "Leave, Stuart! In your state, you'd only risk getting hurt!"_

_"But, Damien–!" I argue._

_"Leave Stuart, **now**!" my heart breaks, watching my fiancé engage in a blinding, brutal exchange of mêlée techniques with his copy. Their physical attacks are so well calculated, and so **fast**… I can't keep up with their movements in my state… Damien dodges a flying roundhouse kick by rolling to his left. He kneels on his right knee and holds himself up with his left hand. My fiancé loses his patience with me. "Damn it, Stuart! Get out of here on the double! I'll never forgive you if you foolishly allow yourself to get hurt again!"_

_I can't move… I…I **don't** **want** to move!_

_I want to stay here and **protect** my fiancé… I refuse…**to let anyone else hurt him!**_

**_I become wild with righteous anger, "RRRAAAAAH…!"_**

_My body ignites with a virtuous aureole of sunlight! Damien and Darien cease their skirmish, marveled by the immaculate shine of my existence of the sun…_

_…The undying love that I feel for Damien has reawakened Paradise City's aureole, and I am now able to use my conventional powers._

_Darien backs away in fear, "You… Y-y-y-you…aren't supposed to be able to do that! You're weak, **aren't** you…? **Where did you get this power from…?**"_

_"The 'Tooth Fairy' brought it to me while I was sleeping. How did you put it? Oh, yes… It went something like **'NOM-NOM, dinnertime, NOM'!**"_

_I join my fiancé at his side, standing with him against the monster that's caused our party so much trouble this evening. Damien looks to the charlatan with a punishing glare, sending the monster to his knees in submission._

_"Hmph! What's the matter, 'Darien'? **Afraid** to take us on without pulling some **sneaky** little trick? I guess you **aren't** my boy's brother, after all… Damien has **a lot more confidence** than you do. I guess that's how I can tell you two apart – one has a set, the other **doesn't**."_

_"**Hiss!** How **dare** you down-talk me like that!" Darien snaps, exciting his physical composition to materializes a scythe of crystallized golden water in his hands. He points the tang of his sickle at us, claiming his next set of victims. "I don't **care** what my master says **anymore**… **I'll bring the lot of you to him in a body bag!**"_

_"Try your worst, bitch!" Damien summons his scythe of crimson matter into his right grasp, holding it in a quarterstaff position. My fiancé smiles, feeling the excitement of going into battle with me. "Daddy, are you ready to teach your 'wannabe brother-in-law' a lesson or two?"_

_"I'm quite amped about it, love… **Quite** amped, indeed."_

_Natalie, Johnny, and the Twins did all they could to help us… They're mentally recuperating right now, so we **can't** let their efforts be all for nothing. Damien and I are about to have a faceoff with a mad remnant of the Gold Experience… Stephen, Yuvraj, Theodore, and John are in the same boat outside – struggling to survive the uncanny assault of a rivaling set of evil imitations… And, on the rooftop, Lord Alexander is locked in mortal combat with the archbishop himself. Things aren't looking up in this situation._

_The resting patients **and** the entire night shift team are in danger of being placed into mental arrest!_

_They **barely** have an hour left to survive, and time's ticking **fast**!_

_Will we be able to put an end to the archbishop's cruel assault in time? Or, will **every** person unable to take the cerebral pressure of the Gold Experience **die** before sunrise?_

______The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…______

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><p><em><em><strong><em><em><em><em>(Ending Theme 2 – "Colors" by Utada Hikaru)<em>___**__

* * *

><p><em><em><strong><em><em><em><em>(Up Next: Chapter 14 – Brother)<em>___**__


	15. Chapter 14: Brother

_**BLOOD/Night**_

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><p><strong><em>(<strong><em>Opening Theme 2 – "Chikyuugi" by Matsuzawa Yumi)<em>**_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter – 14 <strong>**Brother**_

* * *

><p><em>From the Infinity HQ Hideaway House, one of the liberated color-commentators gazes at the silver moon.<em>

"_Hmph!_ How much longer do we have to stay in this _roach motel?_" complains an unappeasable resident from his dormitory window. Cole's been crabby for the past week about his living arrangements… _Anytime_ away from Cole's runny mouth is 'a moment in heaven' for his fellow observers. Unfortunately, Mathews _has_ to put up with his colleague's complaints, since Booker wants his own room. "I _hate_ this! I wish somebody would just _shoot_ me right now!"

"_Don't tempt me", Mathews clicks to the next page of an Internet gazette._

_Cole storms up to his associate, behaving like a stink-faced bully, "What did you say to me…?"_

"I _said_, 'don't tempt me'. You've been _bitching_ for the past 48 hours. Complaining like 'a teenaged girl in heat' won't solve _anything_, you know."

"_If you call __**that**__ 'an insult', then you need to study up on your deliverance. That sucked!"_

"_Anything that doesn't involve 'slurping on the boss's cock' __**sucks**__ to you", Mathews's harsh comeback causes Cole to choke on his pride. Josh continues to ignore giving his roommate any eye contact. "Could you have a seat? Your body odor's making my nasal hairs burn."_

"_Oh fuck you!"_

Cole retreats to his bed, realizing that there's _no way_ he can intimidate a stern person like Josh. In times like this, Josh finds comfort in researching current events – a technique he learned to help him with devising "strategic references" for onscreen appearances. Unlike Michael, Josh _preps_ himself for future events, and is mentally indestructible during the duration of his preparative phase, regardless of the current situation.

"How much longer are you going to _stare aimlessly_ at that laptop?" noses Michael, attempting to get on Josh's nerves. His efforts, however, appear to be all for naught – Josh is _still_ ignoring him. Michael gives up, turning his back to his levelheaded coworker. "Tch! _Geez_, you're such a _square_, Mathews… I was just trying to lighten things up. You don't have to be such a _nerd_ about it."

"_Uh-huh", sighs the composed researcher, showing his lack of interest in Michael's shenanigans._

Michael sits up in bed, looking to his coworker in a curious mood, "What's gotten in to _you_, lately? You're usually not this uptight… Have you been hanging around with Huffman, again?"

"_Yes, I have. Why?"_

"You're starting to _act_ like him."

"_I take pride in having a healthy relationship with my coworkers, unlike a certain someone I know", Josh's cold stab at Michael's worker's etiquette pierces deeply into the heel commentator's ego. The researcher closes his Acer laptop, ending his Internet time. "Speaking of Booker, have you seen him anywhere around here?"_

"Huh? You mean…you don't know where he is?"

"_He told me that he was 'going for a walk' about an hour ago… He said that it 'wouldn't take him long', but he hasn't shown up __**or**__ called since then. I let him take his leave, feeling that he needed some alone time… But, it's not like him to run off by himself. Booker's an important asset to the company, and it'd be tragic if we lost him to one of those cold-blooded vampire __**bastards**__. Thanks to this 'Church of…__**whatever'**__, we're out of work for the next few months. Life sucks right now for __**everyone**__ involved with all of this…not just you."_

"Ooh! Excuse me for being bored!" John ignores Michael's immaturity, placing his laptop under his bed. Michael lays down and turns his back to his associate. The heel commentator decides to lessen the tension with a little light conversation. "…I still can't believe we _survived_ all of that – the destruction of the McCartney Arena."

"_Yeah, I know what you mean…" Josh approaches the room's light switch and gets a flashback of what happened. "…It happened so spontaneously. The way we managed to escape…I really don't understand it myself…"_

_*****Last week…*****_

_Rhodes and Barrett were locked in mortal combat with Regal, who's allegedly one of these "Clergymen" we've been hearing about. Booker actually decided to think logically and escorted us through the breaking building to safety… Midway through our escape route, the floor fell from underneath us… We thought we were going to die but, for some strange reason, we landed safely on our feet._

"_Come on, man!" Booker rallied us to follow him, and we listened._

_By the time we arrived to the end of our escape route, a large part of the building exploded. The flames began gaining on us, and I think we passed out at this point… No, wait, we did… And then, once again, we managed to survive. I felt myself being laid on the ground, and then…I heard footsteps and several voices. Booker…he was speaking to a man._

"Get these two out of here and to a bed."

"_But, sir, what about you?"_

"Don't worry about me. I have to go meet up with an old friend. I'll join you guys later."

"_All right. Take care, Lo–…"before I could hear the rest of the conversation, I slipped into unconsciousness._

_*****…Back to the present*****_

"We woke up in this dormitory a few days later, where McIntyre explained everything to us – the Church, the Infinity radicals, the war between the living and the undead, and the truth about the people we've been working with for years… I had _no idea_ that the current basis of our company was involved with such bloody warfare. I thought that D'Arby's death was just an unexplained occurrence, but it turns out that he was an assassin working for this…_'Church of…something'_."

"_It's 'Church of the Red Moon', lame brain", Cole slips under his covers, and snugs against his pillow._

John flicks the light switch, darkening the room, "Yeah, that's it… Try not to wet the bed tonight. The dormitory's laundry room will shut down if you keep that up, _tinkle sack_."

"_Hmph!" Michael pulls his bed sheets over his head, dismissing the remainder of their conversation._

_Josh retreats to his bed, gets under his sheets and rests backfirst for the evening._

He places his hands behind his head, lounging in deep thought… Josh is worried about his colleague, _Booker Huffman_ – known to the WWE Universe as _"Booker T"_. For the past few years, Josh has grown a close relationship with Booker, becoming somewhat of a little brother to him. Much to Michael's chagrin, Booker and Josh usually make him "the butt" of their inside jokes, most of them stabbing at his _conspicuous, yet light body odor…_ They've devised a funny diminutive for Michael, _"The Onions"_.

_Booker and Josh – and several of their fellow associates – practices the usage of this witty in-joke leisurely, substituting Michael's forename whenever they want to pick fun at Michael's __**B.O.**__ People say that Michael has "fetid bacteria" in certain places that he's unaware of. It smells like "onions", hence the comical name choice of the in-joke. Booker does __**all**__ of the insulting; Josh, on the other hand, just sits back and watches the fun unravel._

Still, the thought of Booker being out in the middle of the night's really starting to bother Josh.

He's in a silent dilemma – whether he should go looking for his friend or not.

_("I better call him just one more time"), Josh leaves his bed, grabs his mobile from his nightstand, and approaches the bedroom door. He exits the room and walks into the living area, having a seat on the sofa. ("My conscience is bothering me. If I don't at least try to get in contact with him at least one more time, I'll go to sleep and have night terrors… Damn these worrisome emotions of mine!")_

_He dials Booker's Blackberry once; twice; three times; four times… Every single time he dials Booker's cellphone, he receives the __**same**__ away message on his answering machine._

"_Yo, this is Booker. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."_

Josh decides to leave a message after the beep, "Hey, Book. Where are you? At least try to call me back… If you don't call back in the next few minutes…I'll come looking for you. I'm not losing anyone else to those vampire bastards, and that includes you… I'll be waiting, but not for long."

He's never known himself to become _so_ _restless_, at least not for one of his senior associates. Josh knows that Booker's capable of taking care of himself, but _the Willington Incident_ has left him antsy for the past few days. He still hasn't a _single_ _clue_ how Booker was able to survive the escape without suffering as much as a _scratch_… Now that he thinks about it, before the building exploded, the trio were faced with _a 45-foot drop to the ground_. It's _humanly_ _impossible_ to survive such a fall, so he's starting to wonder – _How did Booker manage to get them to safety without getting hurt…or __**dying**__ for that matter?_

_The idea suddenly hits him, and the shock sets him into a mode of shock!_

_("It can't be! Is Booker a…__**vampire**__?") Josh remembers Father Andrew telling him that vampires have 'superhuman physical strength and resistance', giving them the ability to survive deadly amounts of impact and pressure. They can survive things that normal men can't – burning buildings; falls from death defying heights; fatal impaling in several areas due to a natural healing factor. A vampire is capable of surviving these things, among many other lethal events. They can __**only**__ be killed by stabbing them through the heart, dismembering their body parts (which isn't an easy thing to do), __**and**__ exposing them to a fatal amount of radiation or heat. ("45-feet from the ground… There's no other possible explanation. Booker __**is**__ a vampire. And those paramedics, or __**whatever**__ they were – they were about to address him as 'Lo…__**something**__'. What were they about to call him? …Does he have…a __**second**__ identity?")_

_Being unable to stay still, Josh goes to get dressed._

_He __**has**__ to know the truth about what happened at the Sports Center… In order to do that, Josh will venture out into the night to find Booker. Hopefully, he won't find trouble along the way._

_Better yet…it'd be good if trouble didn't find __**him**__ either._

* * *

><p><em>The Infinity HQ security systems are currently in a modification process.<em>

Due to the archbishop's blatant threats, Father Andrew has taken precautionary methods. The Scotsman's almost finished installing a secondary defense system capable of defending the entire base, possibly the entire city. His technological genius knows no boundaries, and he takes pride in knowing that everyone will be protected while he's away… Andrew presses the EJECT button on his supercomputer's hard drive, receives his special security disc, and places it into a plastic CD holder near his keypad.

"Now, let's see if this thing will work", the scientist presses the ENTER button on his keypad, triggering a full-system response. Infinity HQ's parameters are covered by an invisible cybernetic shield. This secondary defense system, called _the Thermo-Aggressive Termination Unit (T.A.T.U.)_, has the ability of vaporize any hostile life forms via micro-pyrotechnic laser cannons in 1.5 seconds. Its accuracy is impeccable and fatal, much to Father Andrew's 'mad delight'. He giggles under his breath at how sneakily clever he is. "_Hee-hee._ Now, let's see those 'clergy scumbags' set foot on our land while I'm gone… They'll think _twice_ about making threats after this."

_The system reaches 100%, activating the T.A.T.U. defense system, "System activated, Mr. Galloway."_

"Thank you, T.A.T.U."

_"Would you like for me to activate the lasers, Mr. Galloway?" questions the security system._

"Please do. Just make sure not to _zap_ Infinity personnel. Can you do that for me?"

_"Affirmative, Mr. Galloway", confirms the security system._

"Good, good. I'll take my leave now, T.A.T.U.", Father Andrew leaves his supercomputer in silence, taking his security disk with him. He places his sealed disk inside of his lab coat, and approaches his entrance's security pad. Entering his passcode on the keypad, he gives his security system specific orders. "Remember, T.A.T.U. – eliminate all 'Church personnel'. Gideonite hostiles aren't a problem, unless they come with deadly force. There are potentials out there, so try to be lenient. Understood?"

_"Affirmative. Enjoy your trip, Mr. Galloway."_

The entered password parts the security doors, giving Father Andrew access to the rest of Infinity HQ. The Scotsman parts from his laboratory, passing through the shutting doors with debonair saunter.

_His existence detects a life form within 7 meters of him, down below in the courtyard._

_("Hmm… Is someone sneaking around?") Andrew's curiosity leads him to the windows of the sky tunnel, which connects the main building and his laboratory from the 9th floor. He peers down at the sight of someone leaving the Hideaway house during lockdown. He sports his collective grin, realizing that he's got a little offender on his hands. ("Naughty, naughty little humans – gotta love them. I better go check this out.")_

_Father Andrew opens the window, climbs the pane and performs a daring leap of faith!_

He glides down through the air upon a trail of wind, as T.A.T.U. closes the window behind him for safety measures… The resident makes it halfway into the courtyard, before he receives an unexpected surprise.

_Father Andrew glides down onto his feet, landing safely in front of the resident._

The technologist's presence startles the sneaking tenant, "Oh! Um…Father Andrew, I…"

_"What're ya doing sneaking around, Josh?" the technologist gives the human resident with a suave glare. _

Josh stumbles on his words, "I, uh… I, well… I was going to…"

_"Tongue-tied, are we?"_

"No, I was just…worried about Booker", he confesses with a down persona.

_"Trust me, son…he's fine."_

Andrew's confidence stirs the commentator's confusion, "How would you know that? Those…_things_ are out there, and they could…you know…_kill him_."

_"Return to your dorm, son. He'll be back soon. Ya better step on it, kid…the security system will label you a potential threat and switch to 'Yellow Mode' on you."_

"Yellow mode?"

_"Her lasers will be activated", Father Andrew parts from the resident with a few intimidating words. "Hop to it, son. You don't want to become a smoking carcass, do you?"_

Josh succumbs to the Scotsman's intimidating words, fleeing towards the Hideaway House. Father Andrew snickers under his breath, admiring the emotions that humans possess. He remembers being this shaky, recalling the days of his past life – before being bitten by _the_ mythical master vampire.

_He begrudgingly covers the bite mark on the left side of his neck, recalling the gruesome event._

**_***Flashback to the past…***_**

_19 January, 1391 – I was 23 years old, dumb and naïve for my age. I thought all the legends about vampires were nothing more than fiction…campfire tales told by the ruffians of my village, just to scare little children. Unfortunately, I wasn't one of those children anymore – I grew up into a man who thought nothing could scare **or** harm me… It was my own fault, wandering off in the middle of the night without a weapon to protect myself with. That's the folly that I've **never** been able to outlive, or should I say "the folly I'm unable to forget"?_

_"The night is an unforgiving mistress", he hissed seductively, before I was covered by the darkness of his cloak. It was then that he buried his fangs into me, and my immortal life began… I felt my body become cold, and vitality was a thing of the past. "May you embrace death, yet live forever."_

_When he said those words to me, I fell unconscious and remained lying in the grass for the next 24 hrs. My body needed time to register the chiropteran cells that were implanted into my blood stream… When I finally awoke, I had an aversion to sunlight and I felt weak for most of the day. Over time, I was able to tolerate sunlight exposure from becoming fully accustomed to my new genetics._

_I began developing a thirst for blood, and I attacked several people dear to me._

_Run out of my village by an angry mob, I chose to exile myself for the next few years, to avoid any further confusion. A few years turned into a decade in no time, a decade turned into half a century… Half a century turned into a hundred years. During this 100-year process, I was able to find a way to conquer my bloodlust._

_In order for a vampire to conquer their bloodlust, one must be purified by holy water… A holy man helped me discover the secret healing process that holy water has on vampires. Though I still remained among the undead, I no longer hungered for human blood, and was able to survive off of normal food. However, I was unable to hold it down – my body rejected standard nutrients because it was unable to digest them anymore._

_For another 50 years, I attempted to find a way to digest food to keep me nourished._

_That's when I met Katherine and her fiancé, Henry._

_Henry **never** liked me, labeling me "a dreg" because I refused to drink human blood. Katherine, on the other hand, admired me for regaining a bit of my humanity during my 150-year recovery process. It was my affiliation with Katherine that allowed me to begin studying science and scientific theory. I used her library as a means to broaden my mental horizons, and I soon became accustomed to several types of disciplines, especially around the 1960s and 70s… Cybernetics were starting to boom, and I eventually mastered these sciences as well._

_My quest to become mentally stronger led me to discover my existence of sound, Echoes, just days into the Renaissance… 2 January, 1500 was the day that Echoes first protected me._

_I watched several thugs gang up on me, calling me derogatory names and attempting to mug me. I thought my life was going to end, but I soon discovered something else about myself – vampires **can't** be killed using conventional methods… And then, my blood excited!_

**_"RAAAAHHHH!"_**_ my righteous scream lit the night sky, and my voice somehow caused my human tormentors to spontaneously combust. When I first saw what happened, my stomach became weak… Or, well, at least that's how it felt. ("What…have I done?")_

_I didn't know how to take it, but I was able to get used to fighting. Vampires began coming after me, labeling me as a criminal for killing a couple of their "Gideonites". As if I gave a damn. Those bastards were trying to kill me; they had it coming, one way or the other._

_When Katherine spoke of rebelling against her husband's tyrannical cause, I joined in and met Father Paddington. We became quick friends, though we had some "minor arguments" along the way. Still, to be honest with you, the only thing I could think about was getting Count Valdo back for what he did to me…_

_…By this time, most of my family was already dead. My village was killed off in a vampire raid, one set up by the count himself. My hatred for Count Valdo grew even more._

_By the year 1901, I met two young vampires – John Hennigan and Yuvraj Dhesi. They were an odd pair, but Katherine said they were good people. When John was attacked by the count, he had a change of heart. We knew why… Valdo's Dirty Diana toyed with John's heart and made him turn from our cause._

_Around the 1950s, the construction of Infinity HQ spawned hundreds of thousands of supporters. Worldwide, everywhere you looked, you'd find one or two radicals proudly sporting "the Golden Phoenix Cross" symbol. In reaction to the people's ambitions, I began constructing blueprints for a "cybernetic dispatch unit" capable of protecting populaces en masse… My research took me 20 years, spawning into the "Me" Decade, as novelist Tom Wolfe put it._

_The technology of the 1970s was a miracle worker, and I was able to perfect it in my own way. That's when I began requesting the assistance of biologists and technologists from an underground NASA research facility called the Association of Biotechnology and Biomedical Ascension. The A.B.B.A., as they professionally addressed themselves, helped with the finishing touches to "the M Project". The M Project spawned a Methuselah prototype entitled "Cyborg 00". Our test subject was Richard Fliehr, just a year shy before he became known as "the Nature Boy". The process was a success, but his genetics soon refused the anti-aging process… His natural abilities, however, were unparalleled for the next 20 years._

_4 July, 1998 – the day that the M Project reached its conclusion. On the celebration of America's independence, I celebrated the perfection of the Methuselah Dispatch Unit. My first batch of cyborgs, the New Jacks, protected our base until their first meeting with the count._

_I was involved in this battle, and I learned just how dangerous Valdo von Dracula **really** is… Once again, I could do nothing but watch him destroy people closest to me. I was left injured for most of the battle, and I hated myself for letting the New Jacks suffer such a horrible fate._

_Count Valdo is a **monster**!_

_His existence of darkness, Dirty Diana, is **far** more powerful than one would think. It's just as strong, if not **stronger** than Stuart's existence of the sun, Paradise City. As its name implies, Diana is the manifestation of the Roman goddess of the same name; however, one can tell that this power is corrupted with evil. According to Roman mythology, Diana is the goddess of "the hunt, the moon, and birthing". Yet, when you look at Dirty Diana, the "birthing" ability seems to be attributed with "death". Nothing is given life…it is only be taken away._

_One is led to think – How much longer will the goddess Diana stand for Count Valdo's senseless killing?_

_Now that I think about it, I totally forgot about Lord Alexander… Silly me. When I start talking about the count, I lose track of important facts… Well, tracing back to the year 1732, I met Lord Alexander on bad terms._

_I was his prey._

_The whole Vampire/Crusnik food chain stint was rather uncalled for at the time. Still, I played along and challenged his existence of the feed, Robber Soul, to an intense bout that spawned for hours. It was during moments like this that we found friendship through our rivalry, for we fought many a night. My stories about him struck Katherine's fancy, and she requested to meet him._

_A year into our rivalry, the Crosse Family's alliance became a valuable asset to our cause. It was through Alexander that I eventually met Damien as a little infant…. He was the most **adorable** little cub I ever did see. The lad doesn't realize it just yet, but I gave him a clue about a month ago when I helped him unlock his powers. I did it because…well… Ha! I sound greedy for saying this, but…_

_…I love Damien – **real** love, not the "give me some sugar" family type love._

_I know it'd piss Stuart off, and it'd **probably** make Al mad at me, but I can't help the way that I feel. It's an innocent attraction – Vampires are susceptible to their feelings and, when we claim someone, we can't help but attempt to protect that **one** **person** to the highest of our abilities… Even if it kills us._

_Archbishop Beatles is the **last** person Damien needs to face right now._

_He's a **nightmare** in his own right._

_The last time I fought Thaddeus on my own, it was trouble for me. He nearly took my life, vice versa… It's a battle that I will **never** forget for as long as I…exist._

**_***…Back to the present***_**

__("If my guesstimates are correct, Thaddeus is using 30% of his existence power, which means that he's not being serious.") Andrew has since taken to the air, soaring through the skies upon a wild airstream. With each passing second, he gains closure on the Willington Municipal Hospital… His existence suddenly picks up a disturbing power signal from the archbishop himself. ("Echoes is picking up the bastard's power frequency from **this** close a distance…? That's not good, but it's not bad either… He's currently at 40%... That means that his opponent's giving him a run for his money… Only one person can do that… Alexander – He's fighting him!")__

* * *

><p><strong><em>"Cry! Ghastly Shriek!"<em>**_ the archbishop leads an offensive front, unleashing crystallized golden spikes from the liquid film surrounding his body. Lord Alexander evades the water master's offenses by 'flash stepping' to random positions on the rooftop. The Crusnik's laughter taunts the archbishop's every effort, throwing him off of his concentration every now and then. "**Damn you!** Don't taunt me, you vexatious **cannibal**!"_

"Is that _anger_ I hear in your voice, Thaddeus?" laughs the incredibly agile eater.

_"Shut up!" the dark ecclesiast becomes fired up with rage, unleashing unavoidable golden water cannons from his aqua film shield. Lord Alexander comes to a halt, readies himself for impact, and shoots the offensive bloodsucker a confident grin. Thaddeus overexcites with bloodthirsty glee. "Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Now, let's see if you can dodge **this**!"_

"_Hmph!_ Child's play…" Lord Alexander energizes his pollaxe's blade, rears it above his head and swings his steel downward! His actions create a horizontal crescent moon-shaped cloud of bio-electric energy. This counteroffensive strategy splits the archbishop's attack wave right down the middle. Thaddeus is psyched, and is mentally forced to call of his _Ghastly Shriek_ technique. Lord Alexander humoredly snickers, as the golden waters spontaneously evaporate. "…_Heh-heh._ Things never change, do they? With you, that is… You get psyched, you give up, you get beat. We've gone through this time and time again, yet you _still_ fail to realize that you'll never be able to defeat me? Why must our relationship continue to be _so_ _boringly_ _repetitive_, Thaddeus?"

"Why you–!" Thaddeus chokes on his words, silenced by the Crusnik's mocking wit.

_Alexander arches his eyebrow in confusion, "What? Is that all you've got hidden under your sleeve? Are you seriously telling me that 'sprinkle of golden fairy dust' is your strongest attack?"_

The sound of his opponent's laughter rouses the archbishop's anger…

_…His existence begins to react to his rising ire, causing a bed or golden ripples to begin forming on the roof's surface. Lord Alexander looks around in awe, pretending to be impressed by the archbishop's magic show._

"_Ooh!_ Such a pretty little display of _blow bubbles_", laughs the iconic eater.

_"Say all you want, but no amount of **'running'** will save you from this next attack!" the water master's bed of rippling fluids begin rising as small golden water bubbles. Lord Alexander closes his eyes, silently anticipating his opponent's next attack… Thaddeus takes this as a silent gesture of conceding, but coldly chooses not acknowledge it. "Hmph! Accepting death, are we? Fine… **Ascend! Chaos Rising!**"_

___The wide-ranged bed of rippling liquid responds to Thaddeus's war cry, arising as a monstrous golden geyser! Lord Alexander's eyes open just before the archbishop's geyser covers the entire rooftop!___

* * *

><p><strong><em>"Infect! Poison Ivy!"<em>**_ Stephen controls his battle by sporting a combination of offense and defense, materializing a cannon blast of poison ivy leaves from aimed right palm. His clone attempts to escape the poison ivy storm by liquefying into a puddle of golden water. The ageless nightwalker remains cool, closing his poised palm to end his ecological wave of poison ivy. The clone biologically reconstructs itself, becoming whole once again. Stephen applauds his imposter's evasive capabilities. "Bravo! Woo-hoo, bravo! You'd make a pretty good penny performing that little trick in front of a large crowd, fella… That or scare them away, one or the other."_

"What are you getting at, _fleshie_?"

_"Oh, I'm not a 'fleshie' – I'm a vampire. 'Fleshie' is a term used by bloodsuckers to refer to humans in a prejudice manner. I don't fancy the uttering of that term, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't use it… To say you're a copy of me, you don't know **jack** about my likes and dislikes, fella."_

"You'll have no use for them, once you're _dead!_" the clone tosses its right arm forward, causing it to biogenetically liquefy into dozens of snaking water strings! Stephen silently summons his ghostly emerald brambles onto his right arm, holds his armed limb above his head and causes his existence to surround his body as a protective shield of thorny vines. The doppelgänger is psyched by his opponent's display of counteroffensive knowledge! _"What…? How did he surround himself with his existence so quickly…?"_

The clone's snaking water strings clash into Stephen's briar shield, and are repulsed by its solidity… The imposter retracts his arm back into its original form, as the wise Irishman retreats his defenses.

"You talk a lot of trash for a _thing_ that shouldn't even exist in this world", Stephen's brambles slither through the air, sprouting leaves from its thorns. "Green Day is one of the _9 Hierarchical Existences_ that governs the forces of life and death. As you can probably already tell, it's an existence of _earth_ – an elemental class that specializes in geological and ecological magic… But, that's not its _only_ strong point."

_"What else could there be? What could I possibly not know about your existence, when I'm constructed with one just like your own?"_

_"This…"_ Stephen lashes his brambles forward like a bullwhip, causing them to coil around his clone's body like a ravenous nest of boa constrictors. Green Day lifts the constricted charlatan off the ground, tightening its grip upon Stephen's mental command. The Irish nightwalker delights in hearing his copy's screams of pain. "…I see an _Oscar_ coming your way, fella. You see, Green Day isn't all about little tricks. As one of the 9 Hierarchical Existences, it's _'the embodiment of Strength'_. Those briars can _crush_ you into sawdust, especially after _this little number_."

_"What are you talking about…?"_

"Heads up, fella", Stephen's warning prompts the clone to look up, where he is faced with the return of the earth master's ecological wave of poison ivy leaves. The copy panics! As a gesture of kindness, Stephen recites a small prayer for the doomed abomination. "Lord, see him through the gates of your divine kingdom. Let his spirit find rest, though he was born without a soul to call his own…"

_The rain of poison ivy leaves showers the clone with its supernatural organic chemicals, causing a biological reaction… Stephen's clone is** frozen solid** as a human-like block of golden liquids. The legendary Irish nightwalker finishes his opponent off by swinging him around like a stone tied to a rope…and **smashing** it into a million pieces by slamming it upon the cold concrete!_

_Stephen ends his prayer with a repentant heart, "…Forgive me of this sin, Amen."_

_Meanwhile, Yuvraj is having a fun time flash evading the lethal lash of his clone's liquefied arms!_

_"Hold still, you bouncing gnat!" the time bender's clone becomes wild with anger, sending both of its arms forward as a colossal water cannon. Yuvraj smiles, before his body spontaneously disappears from sight. The doppelgänger is stunned by what he sees. "What is this…? He…vanished into thin air?"_

"Where are you looking?"

_The emergence of the Punjabi-Canadian's voice startles the copy, causing it to lose concentration over its biological composition… The large mass of golden liquids spatter upon everything in its path, causing external acid damage to whatever it touches._

_The clone turns around, and is instantly stabbed in its skull from close-range with a combat knife from Raj's jacket… The charlatan wails in pain, before it is suddenly frozen in place by the conventional activation of Raj's Chronos Bind technique… The time bender pulls his blade out of the impostor's skull, allowing it to regain its physical mobility._

"This fight is over", declares the coolheaded warrior, retreating his combat knife into a time rift in his jacket. The clone is offended by the sight of its opponent turning his back to him… The biological pretender liquefies his arm, readying himself for an assassination attempt. Yuvraj stops the progression of his copy's murderous endeavor by making a secondary announcement. "Before you try anything, I ask that you _not_ make me have to repeat myself a second time."

_"What did you say to me…?" hisses the duplicate._

"You heard me the first time, my friend… This fight is over."

_"Then why am I still alive?"_

"You're _not_ alive."

**_"Stop bullshitting me!" _**_the copy lashes its liquefied arm forward, but is suddenly pierced through its skull with another combat knife! **"AAAHHH…!"**_

_Yuvraj cracks a sinister smile, and leisurely fixing his formal coat with taunting gesture._

**_"AAAHHH…! What have you done to me…?"_**_ shrieks the golden counterfeiter in a world of pain, attempting to pull the knife out of its head. However, as he reaches for the blade…it disappears. The clone attempts to smite the time bender with another assassination attempt, but he suffers the same fate – a knife to the skull! **"AAAHHH…! What the hell is going on…? Where are these knives coming from…?"**_

"You've just _died_ a second time, and this will _continue_ to repeat itself until your 'biological nucleus' can no longer withstand the shock", proudly explains the time bender. Yuvraj looks over his left shoulder and explains the nature of this bizarre attack. "Time has three forms: _cause_, _duration_, _effect_… As a time bender, I have the ability to _alternate_ this rule using a special killing technique that _ejects one of the three Natures of Chronology_."

**_"You can do what…?"_**

"In this case, I've placed your 'cause' in _Repeat Mode_, where it will unceasingly reoccur _everytime_ you attempt to attack me or _anyone_ else. The 'duration' remains to same, where my _Al Mar Payara combat knife_ stabs you in the skull … However, your 'effect' has been placed in _Cancellation Mode_, which means that you're dead…_but you're not dead._ _I won't let you die so easily!_"

**_"What…?" shrieks the golden counterfeiter._**

_The coolheaded Punjabi-Canadian turns away with a confident grin, explaining his intentions, "You will continue to be 'reborn' as you are, **suffering** until your governing member gives out from severe anxiety! That is why I say 'this fight is over' – you've lost **twice** without even noticing it! And, at this rate, you only have **one** more stab to the head before your biological composition fails you! In other words: **kaboom!**_"

_The clone is frozen with fear, hesitating to move an inch from where it stands._

_Yuvraj proudly announces the name of this cruel time-altering technique, "Either live in peace or suffer a momentary nightmare… Either way, you've been ensnared by my spell – **Remember the Time**!"_

_The clone loses its patience and charges at Yuvraj in a blind rage._

**_"Hiss…! Damn you…!"_**

____"Likewise…farewell, my foolish friend", the cause repeats itself, and another knife is stabbed into the clone's skull. As the time bender predicted, the charlatan's nucleus gives out, causing its body to spontaneously combust into a mass of golden liquid… The useless remnants of the Gold Experience taint the pavement, as Raj departs from the messy scene. "You've lived a short and unfortunate life. It's such a shame – Even in death, you will continue to relive that nightmare… Consider it payback for thinking you could **ever** take my place. Wannabe."____

* * *

><p><em>The consuming golden geyser lowers, acting upon the archbishop's overconfident ambitions.<em>

_Thaddeus is out of breath, falling onto his hands and knees in a loss of mental strength. He now feels the strain of activating an existence in the midst of human life forms… The dark ecclesiast looks forward to see a blurry image – the Crusnik lord is standing in the midst of another dressed in white._

"What are you staring at?" a familiar voice strikes the archbishop's attention, causing the blurry vision to slowly clear up… He sees a familiar face – Father Andre has arrived, protecting his comrade with a wide sound barrier. Thaddeus panics, the chaotic memories of their former encounters. The Scotsman is humored by the dark ecclesiast's apprehension. "Wow. _Seriously?_ You're scared of me after all this time? Did you _lose your nerve_ during the past 100 years, Thad?"

_Archbishop Beatles struggles to stand to his feet, "What…are you…doing here?"_

"Old men like to play Poker, _not Solitaire_", Father Andrew retreats his sound barrier into his existence.

Lord Alexander steps forward, joining Andrew at his left, "Mind if I 'shuffle the cards', old chum?"

"That's an ace vanguard's job, Al. You're the strongest berserker of your clan, so I always let you take the frontline. I'll act as your _offensive and defensive rear_, as usual."

_"Sounds like my kind of game, Drew", Lord Alexander positions himself in his patented quarterstaff stance, eyeing the archbishop with a battle-hungry glare… Before Thaddeus has time to react, the Crusnik lord has already closes in on him with optically untraceable speed! The dark ecclesiast panics, having forgotten how frightening Alexander's endurance capabilities are! "You've tainted my nephew's image! And, for that…you must die!"_

_Lord Alexander thrusts his head spike into the archbishop's stomach, piercing a gash through his midsection! Thaddeus's scream of unbearable pain is silenced by the blood surfacing through his jaws!_

**_"GACHK–!"_**

_"Does my nephew's fiancé scream the same way, Thaddeus?" questions the bloodthirsty Crusnik lord, before repulsing the archbishop with a discharge of biological voltage transferred through his pollaxe's head spike!_

**_"AAAHHH…!"_**_ Thaddeus is violently flung several feet away by the biological discharge, and lands roughly near the northern edges of the rooftop. The dark ecclesiast pushes himself to his hands and knees, resentfully regurgitating the blood released by the Crusnik lord's ferocious critical attack. "**Gah!** Damn you to hell! You…**accursed eater scum!**"_

_Father Andrew folds his arms and closes his eyes, not seeing any honor in interfering with such a personal moment. The water master holds onto his open, bleeding wound, allowing his healing factor to take effect. The Crusnik lord approaches the injured terrorist with his biologically electrified weapon. Thaddeus attempts to stand to his feet, but his injury forbids him any advanced movement._

_"Robber Soul has shown me the grim image of young Master Stuart's night terror", announces the approaching eater, allowing his eyes to emit a faint crimson glow of anger. Thaddeus's healing factor isn't acting quickly enough; therefore, he'll only be able to shield himself with a minor defense… As the situation stands, that won't be enough to preserve his immortal life… Lord Alexander smiles at how frightened the bloodsucker looks in his current position. "Ah, yes. If memory serves me correct, humans soil themselves in this state – I believe the colloquial term is 'being scared shitless'… Yes, that's how young Master Stuart felt when you **toyed** with his emotions, scaring the boy with that **disgusting** replica of my nephew. That act is **beyond** punishable, old man… Tell me, Thaddeus… What should I do with you?"_

"Nothing!" forbids the Scotsman, halting his comrade's pursuit and catching his attention with stern verse. "Do not harm that man any further, Al. It ain't right."

_"Have you gone mad, Andrew? You'd **seriously** let this fool go free?"_

_"It's not your right to take his life, old man!"_ Drew's stern tone silences his comrade's blade, causing Alexander to lower his defenses. The technologist lowers his voice and speaks some wisdom to the incensed ace vanguard. "_Remember our Code of Honor, Alexander – never claim the life of another man's enemy, lest it's personally requested of you…_ Besides, _you_ said it best – Stuart suffered _more_ than you did. You may have had your nephew's image _defiled_ by this bastard, but think about how his lover feels... _Stuart watched 'his world' become corrupted by a heartless tyrant that **dares** to call himself 'an ecclesiast'!_"

_No matter how much Alexander wants to take Thaddeus's life, he can't… Such an act goes against the Progenies' Code of Honor. His anger almost caused him to blindly break this one important rule._

"So many people are suffering right now, but it's not your right to take his life…" Andrew's calmed voice tranquilizes the Crusnik lord's rage, placing him in a calm state. "…You'll be doing Stuart a justice, letting him live on… Regardless of how much you love Damien, just like you know I do…think of how his fiancé will feel in the end. It'll feel twice as good, avenging his lover with his own bare hands."

_"Well said…still…**I shall leave a curse on his wretched life**", the wound in Thaddeus's midsection suddenly begins to **harden**! The archbishop holds onto his gash in a world of pain, feeling his internal organs solidifying in that one specific area. The Crusnik lord withdrawals his pollaxe back into his bloodstream, explaining the damage that has been done. "This curse may not be as severe as the Pope's, but your suffering will be just as great… Take a look at your stomach, old man."_

_Thaddeus looks at his chest and notices that his gash has been covered with an impenetrable glass shell!_

**_"What is this…?" he shrieks in pain._**

_"The same ailment that befalls the Pope – my unmerciful **Heart of Glass**."_

_"Oooh, I remember **that** technique"_, laughs the technologist. Andrew takes the liberty of explaining the Crusnik lord's 'curse'. "You see, old timer, Al's turned your wound into _a permanent handicap_. If the entire body isn't at 100%, it _won't_ be able to perform at its full potential. That glass implant locks away _35% _of your existence, meaning that you won't be able to perform some of the _'little tricks'_ you're used to pulling off. Considering the physical state that you're in…_your mind will give out, **if** you don't deactivate your existence._"

_The dark ecclesiast is stuck in a dilemma… He knows that he should deactivate the Gold Experience, but his stubborn nature places him in a mental standstill. Thaddeus wants to exact his dark lord's cause, even if it costs him his immortal life; however, the strain of keeping his existence active is slowly beginning to take its toll on his brain._

_("Lord Valdo, this monster has cursed me with a never-ending battle wound…") Thaddeus's free left fist balls tightly, attempting to squeeze the nectars of mortification out of his system. ("….The Heart of Glass has befallen so many of our men, turning them into **defective tools of war!** **How could I allow myself to suffer the same fate?** **Damn it all!** …Lord Valdo, I promise you this – this act of stupidity will **not** be done in vain!")_

_Thaddeus finds the strength and will to stand to his feet, ignoring the pain that he feels._

_The Progenies of Destruction are impressed by this display of unbreakable resolve._

_"I may be injured, and my brain may fail me as you say…" Thaddeus wipes the blood from his mouth with his left sleeve, displaying a newly developed sense of backbone. "…But, I **won't** withdraw my existence. For the sake of Lord Valdo's cause, I will gladly risk my life and well-being. A momentary life means **nothing** to one who's survived **centuries** without need of it."_

"_Hmph!_ Spoken like a _true_ bottom bitch", the Crusnik lord dismisses himself from the archbishop's sight, joining his fellow Progeny in departing from the rooftop. Lord Alexander leaves with these haunting words. "You won't have to worry about me hunting you down. I'll let _young Master Stuart_ deal the killing blow. In your current state, time is of the essence…_ Death will embrace you at the receiving end of his sunlit wrath!_"

The old field partners exit the rooftop through the staircase door, closing it on their way out…

____…Thaddeus falls to his knees, feeling the mental strain of having an active existence in his current physical state. It may be easy for a young nightwalker, but one his age cannot bear cerebral pressure for prolonged periods of time… As Thaddeus slowly fights to retain consciousness, his loyal remnants struggle to honor their creator's dark ambitions.____

* * *

><p><em>John leads a long-range aerial trade of energy blasts, matching his clone in speed and accuracy!<em>

**_"Optic Scream!" _**_the nimble extremist shoots a blast of ionic plasma from his diamond-poised hands, matching its casting with his clone._

The two powers _collide_, initiating an airborne power struggle. John thinks smart and performs an aerial flash jump to escape his opponent's attack… His clone is unable to follow his movements with its inferior eyesight; therefore, it appears as if John has _vanished_ into thin air.

_The golden imposter evaporates its optical water cannon in shock, "Did he just disappear…?"_

**_"Optic Scream Cascade!"_**_ the optic master's voice roars from the skies above, causing the charlatan to look up to the endless sea of stars… John's patented flurry of ionic plasma spheres rains from the starlit skies. John's clone returns the gesture with a counteroffensive volley of golden water bubbles! The powers clash, and a second struggle begins. **"Yaaaaaa…!"**_

**_"Hiss-haaaaaa…!"_**_ their opposing powers trigger a spontaneous aerial elemental explosion, lighting the night skies with a chaotic glow. However, John surprises his clone by daringly leaping through explosion with a burning-eyed glare of bloodlust! The optic master tackles the abomination by its throat with his right hand, spins clockwise and tosses the copy towards the pavement below. **"AAAHHH…!"**_

_John pursues his plummeting opponent by coiling himself in a tight ball, rolling downward with the greatest of ease… As the golden counterfeiter crashes into the pavement backfirst, John uncurls and stomps his feet into the monster's solar plexus region!_

**_"Uwah…!"_**_ the charlatan feels its nucleus beginning to disrupt, but former clergyman hops off of the monster's body, gracefully landing several feet away from it._

John places the gap his diamond-poised hands in his line of sight, creating a perfect picture of his nearly defeated opponent, "Stand to your feet, now. It's better to embrace death, than live on knowing how _weak_ you truly are… So, please, grant me the honor of being your _executioner_."

**_"Fuck honor, just die!"_**_ the monster biogenetically liquefies its body, rushing forward as a colossal golden tidal wave. The optic master readies himself for a killing blow, allowing the golden tidal wave to crash into his body! The liquefied charlatan madly rejoices in his false victory. "Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…! Looks like **you're** the one being execu–…"_

_The golden counterfeiter's liquefied body begins to boil, signifying that its physical temperature's being increased by the optic master's cunning and battle expertise._

_As its golden body becomes a blood red color, reacting to the fusion of ionic plasma, the imposter begs for its life to be spared, "Stop this. Stop this, I beg of you! Stop this… **STOP THIS…!**"_

**_The mass of overheated liquid spontaneously combusts, splattering upon everything in the area!_**

_John successfully utilized the high-temperatures of his ionic plasma vision to increase the counterfeiter's physical body heat. This endeavor caused the spontaneous combustion, therefore bringing a victorious end to John's first field battle. A smile decorates his face, as his optical energy is withdrawn into his existence._

_____"I guess fate said otherwise…" John turns on his heel and leaves the area with suave disposition. "…In the end, fate designed **me** as the executioner. May your unfortunate soul find peace in the afterlife."_____

_Theodore successfully evades a streamlined wave of crystallized water spikes from his opponent, by leaping high into the air with a single bound._

_The defensive master laughs at his imposter's lack of accuracy, "Hmph! Did you **really** think that'd hit me from long range? Looks like Thaddeus forgot to teach you how to aim correctly."_

**_"Shut up!"_**_ the golden counterfeiter tosses a secondary wave of crystallized spikes with a waving of his left hand; however, Theodore reacts quickly and mentally materializes a diamond-shaped platform of cubic zirconium at his feet. He uses this to flash lunge forward, leaving his platform behind to suffer the attack wave's deadly blow. The charlatan ceases his long-range front, skimming his surroundings to locate his opponent's whereabouts. "Tch! Shit, this guy's got some **amazing** endurance… Where did he run off to…?"_

"I'm over here!" the imposter hears his original's voice from his rear.

The counterfeiter turns around to a _shocking_ greeting – _a monumental wave of shining silver threads snakes after him with ravenous intent!_ _Theodore mentally alternates the trajectory of his attack wave, causing the shining threads to separate and encircle his target!_

_"What's going on…?" shrieks the golden charlatan, before hearing his original's laughter from above. He looks up to see the youth minister hovering upon a secondary diamond platform. "What the–? How dare you do this to me! Get me out of this – whatever it is!"_

"No favors are permitted to the unjust, only a chance for repentance."

**_"What…?"_**

"Your existence will be _greatly_ wasted if you continue this charade, pretender. You should leave this place with your life, return to your creator's side, and go home. You've _no_ chance of winning this fight."

**_"Stop telling me what to do!"_**_ the monster flings a third wave of crystalized water spikes with its right hand; however, the surrounding silver strings react to the charlatan's offense._

_The shining threads slither after the attacking water spikes, smashing them to pieces with their deadly sting! Theodore's copy is psyched by the opposing defensive front… However, that's not where it ends._

_The extended silver threads coil the imposter's body in a neck-high restraining helix!_

**_"AH! Get these things OFF OF ME!"_**

_"You're begging for mercy now?"_ Theodore laughs, as he mentally materializes a crossguard blade of diamonds into his right grasp. The defense master leaps from his platform and lands perfectly on his feet. He approaches his restrained opponent with a cold stare. "I thought you were _'superior'_ to me. Whatever happened to _that_? _Did the idea escape you after my diamond strings coiled you in its tight grip?_"

**_"Damn you! Stop mocking me!"_**

"It's only natural that I mock my prey…" the youth minister lifts his blade of cubic zirconium, flashing its moonlit luster in the charlatan's eyes. _The imposter is blinded!_ However, this is only a symbolic gesture – _the greeting of death's white light, as Theodore's blade is driven straight through the imposter's midsection!_ _The youth minister's dashing horizontal slash parts the imposter straight down the middle, ending its unfortunate life._ "…My **_400-meter Radius D'Zirconia Special_** solidifies my opponent from the neck to the soles of their feet. By the time you were coiled, _you were **already** biologically modified_. My blade only lessened your suffering, for you would've _never_ been able to revert back to your original composition."

_Theodore retreats his diamond strings into his existence, walks up to the charlatan's head and impales it with the point of his blade. This punctures the counterfeiter's nucleus, causing the head's composition to spontaneously combust. Theodore looks down at his shoes, noticing that they've been tainted by the imposter's biological juices._

"_Yuck!_ These things are _beyond_ gross", the youth minister kicks the juices from his shoes, turns on his heel and departs from the scene. He regroups with his fellow troublemakers, following them to the hospital's front entrance. "How did your battles go?"

_"It was 'entertaining', to say the least", smiles the time bender._

_"You took the words right out of my mouth, Raj", John agrees, before they walk directly into a chaotic scene… They are stunned to see that everyone in the waiting room/registration area's been **critically** injured. The head nurse struggles to move at John's feet – he kneels down and holds the elderly nurse in his arms. "Are you all right, ma'am? Please, hang in there for us."_

_"Make…it…stop…" pleads the mentally drained nurse._

_Stephen eyes his wristwatch, and is shocked to see how much time has lapsed, "45 minutes have passed **already**…? This isn't good – these people won't make it past another 15 minutes!"_

_Theodore turns to his fellow radicals and gives them specific orders, "John, Raj, stay here and secure the lobby area. Thaddeus will surely take advantage of the situation if they're left unattended. Stephen and I will assist the lovebirds in the ER Ward. Can you handle things here, boys?"_

_"Sure thing", nods the time bender._

_"You can count on us", seconds the optic master._

_"Thank you. Let's head out, Stephen."_

______"Follow me – I know a shortcut", rallies the Irishman, leading his junior towards the ER Ward with haste.______

* * *

><p><em>Meanwhile, Damien and I are locked in mortal combat with a ravenous monster!<em>

**_"Bloody Graze!"_**_ Darien leads a lethal offensive front, keeping us on our toes. The golden beast's discharging of acidic liquids burns through everything in sight. He guides his assault by aiming the tang of his crystalline water scythe around the hallway. He delights in seeing us evade his every violent effort. **"Yes, yes, yes! Run, dance, scream and die! For the sake of Lord Valdo's ambitions! Hiss-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!"**_

_"Daddy, this thing has some pretty impressive speed!" smiles my boy with joyous energy._

"You seem to be enjoying yourself, love."

_"Child's play brings out the youth in me", giggles my boy, before leaping gracefully over the counterfeiter's offensive discharge. Darien panics, realizing that his 'brother' possesses an equal amount of speed. Damien laughs at his imposter's apprehension. "What's the matter, 'little brother'? Did the Boogie Man sneak up on you while I wasn't looking? Here, let me give you **'a kiss'**!"_

_Damien aims the tang of his scythe at his grounded imposter, discharging biological voltage from his crystalline steel! Darien suffers the sting of my boy's blood, and is repulsed by its pivotal strength!_

_I pursue the imposter's airborne body with blinding speed, preparing my right fist for a Dashing Sunlight Finger! Using my leg muscles, I leap forward and smash my sunlit fist into the monster's solar plexus, forcing it to the hospital floor! Darien coughs up a small portion of his biological juices. I stand to my feet, showing a sense of humanity towards the injured creature._

_Damien joins me at my side with fascinated expression, "Well. Looks like you gave him what for, Daddy."_

"He had it coming, parading around as my fiancé and whatnot."

_"Big…brother…" Darien looks up to my husband-to-be with a loving smile. For the first time, he's showing a sense of child-like innocence. "…How…did I do? Was I…just as strong…as you?"_

_"Nowhere near it, dear", Damien kneels next to the injured copy and notices something about him. "You know, Darien…you're crazy, but you don't appear to be totally evil. If anything, you're like a child trying to please its parent. I don't know **why** you act on the accordance of a coward like the archbishop. If he were a real man, he would've faced us head-on, instead of sending weak copies to do his bidding… So, tell me, what should I do with you? Spare your life and let you live, probably to face you another day? Or, should I just kill you right here?"_

_Darien panics, "No! No, big brother! Don't kill me! I'll be good – **I promise I'll be good from now on!**"_

**_"You bit my fiancé, you sick piece of shit!"_**_ Damien stands to his feet, lifts his sickle above his head, and readies himself for a killing blow. I step back, allowing him to act as he pleases. My fiancé begins to shed tears, feeling the pain of knowing I've been hurt by the monster lying on the floor. "I shall send your soul to the afterlife, in the name of God…not for myself. Your existence is an abomination to the natural order, and your actions have been nothing short of inhuman! Farewell, little brother!"_

**_"BIG BROTHER, NO…!"_**_ the Lord is on the imposter's side, for my fiancé's blade is stopped by the emergence of a strong right hand._

_Darien looks up to see a very surprising sight – we turn around to see a familiar face. It's Father Andrew, grabbing onto the staff of my fiancé's weapon… Standing at his rear is the Crusnik lord, of whom we aren't familiar with. Damien lets go of his weapon, allowing it to withdrawal into his existence._

_"Drew, why did you–?" begins my confused lover._

"What's the meaning of this?" I turn my attention to the obscured Crusnik lord. "Drew, who's this shadowy fellow? A friend of yours?"

_"Forgive my silence, young Master Stuart", apologizes the obscured eater, as he steps into the light of the hallway. Damien and I are stunned to see the eater's true face. "Yeah, I know – you can't believe it, right?"_

_"Wait a second… **Booker?**" that's right, Damien's great-uncle is really our prized color-commentator, Booker T. The exposed Crusnik lord looks to his confused nephew with a smile. "What are **you** doing here? I thought you were liberated with the rest of WWE personnel!"_

"Did you get permission to leave the base?" my question makes the old field partners giggle. "What's so funny, you two? I didn't say anything witty, you know."

_The Crusnik lord embraces his nephew, placing his left hand on the back of Damien's head… My eyes widen to the sight of a thin, circular plate of glass surfacing from my boy's cranium._

_"What's that?"_

_"It's my **Sanity Crown** – I placed this in Damien's head to block his memories of me", explains the Crusnik lord, before his nephew faints into his arms. The ageless eater holds my fiancé with fathering embrace. "He needs to rest. You two did a smashing good job working together, young Master Stuart."_

**_How dare he talk sweet to me after doing this to my boy!_**

_"Don't you talk cute with me, **you bastard!**" Father Andrew places his left hand on my chest, stopping me from approaching the family members. "Get out of my **way**, Drew! **I'm going to rip his fucking head off!**" _

"Calm yourself, Stu."

**_"Why should I…?"_**

"Because he's Damien's _great-uncle_, that's why", my comrade's words bring silence to my anger, substituting my emotions with confusion. The Crusnik lord smiles at my fiancé, allowing a few tears to fall from his strong, loving eyes. Darien gets up and flees, heading towards the staircase. I attempt to chase after him, but I'm instantly halted by Andrew's stern voice. "Don't run after that useless copy, ya silly puppy! You've got to leave Thaddeus with _something_ to keep his rocks happy, or else we'll see _more_ of him in the future."

_I turn around, facing my comrades with angered confusion, "Why…? Why should I let **that** **homicidal** **phony** **go free?**"_

"Think about it, Stu – Thaddeus is _a_ _sexual deviant_, and he can only be suppressed by _quenching_ _his carnal desires._ If he's satisfied, he won't bother us. Besides, our friend here secured his _'permanent sidelining'_."

_"What are you talking about?"_

"Follow us, young Master Stuart", kindly demands the Crusnik lord, catching my attention. "We will explain everything; the archbishop; who I am and _why_ I've done this to my great-nephew. I assure you, young master – you won't regret hearing me out. If anything, this is what my _precious Little One_ would want. For us to quickly become a _loving_ family. Right?"

He's right about that. Damien wouldn't want me to fight a senseless battle, when situation's still capable of being clearly explained. I should know better than that – irrationally acting on my impulses. I bring shame to myself with such childishness.

"Fine. I'll hear you out…_whoever_ you are."

_"My real name is Alexander Broaden Crosse", politely begins the Crusnik lord with introductory verse. "Since we're pretty much 'future in-laws', you can call me 'Uncle Al'… I'm going to enjoy getting to know my future nephew-in-law."_

His kind nature brings a delighted grin to my face, "I'm sure the pleasure will be mutual…_Uncle Al_."

_My acceptance brings joy to the iconic eater's old soul, and makes Andrew smile._

_That was the first time I met Damien's great-uncle, the legendary Crusnik lord – Alexander Broaden Crosse. Until now, I thought that this man was an ordinary human… It turns out that I was terribly wrong. What I'm to find out in the next few minutes is beyond extraordinary._

_Through our conversation, I find out that Lord Alexander's much nicer than he appears… I'm very fortunate to have a second mentor in my life. Still, something's bothering me..._

_...I haven't picked a best man for my wedding just yet. Perhaps I may've come to a conclusion during these past few battles. Stephen and John – which one should I choose?_

_______Hmm…perhaps I should let fate make that decision for me._______

* * *

><p><em>Thaddeus feels himself beginning to slowly fade into unconsciousness.<em>

His head has become light from battling prolonged mental exhaustion. At this rate, the dark ecclesiast will completely wear out his existence… In return for his irrational behavior, he will lose his life. However, despite the danger of continuing on, the archbishop remains loyal to his dark lord's ambitions.

_("My mind…is fading…my body…is becoming weak…") Thaddeus's vision becomes blurry, and his legs give out. His current physical state, multiplies his mental suffering tenfold… Because of this, he loses his balance and collapses onto the rooftop. Thaddeus rolls onto his back, looking up at the starry night sky in reflection of his past endeavors. ("…I've lived…a pathetic life. Unlike most vampires…I was born…from the joining of two purebloods. Growing up, I…couldn't understand…why I even needed to exist. I met her, a human woman who could not die…when I was 150-years-old. Oh, my dearest Wendy – my wife, my enemy, my everything… I couldn't be with you in the end…just like I couldn't control my impulses. Perhaps…this is karma – me dying…because of my stubbornness. If only…you could stop me…right now… Wendy, save me…from my foolishness… I beg of you…")_

_"Master!" the faded sound of the remaining remnant's voice alerts the archbishop. Darien arrives, kneels down and holds his creator in his loving arms. The caring duplicate begins coaching his creator back to full consciousness. "Master, that's enough. Stop this…please… Please, call of the Gold Experience! I don't care if I disappear… Please, master…**don't kill yourself!**"_

_"You…love…me?" smiles the weakened ecclesiast._

_"Yes, master…I love you", Darien gently kisses the archbishop's lips, releasing a golden tear from his closed right eye. Thaddeus silently deactivates his existence, causing his creation to slowly merge with his body. The loving creature smiles at his creator, as he fades into the dark ecclesiast's strong frame. Darien speaks his final words to his master through telepathy. ("Always exist for me; for her; but never for him… Count Valdo doesn't care about you, master. Damien's anger taught me that.")_

_("His…anger?")_

_("My big brother's a good person, and so are the rest of his friends. We're wrong for what we've done, master… Please, don't hurt them anymore. When Damien became angry with me, I saw that what I was doing was really bad. I **am** the Gold Experience, master. Heed the words of your existence…and stop this madness.")_

_For the first time in hundreds of years, the archbishop sheds a bloody tear of guilt._

_Darien fully merges with his creator's body, and the heart-changing kiss is brought to an end. Having regained a small portion of his mentality, Thaddeus stands to his feet with a hint of struggle._

_("Lord Valdo…doesn't love me"), his creation's words have changed his mind. Thaddeus begins to remember why he fell in love with Mother Wendy Darling, the head of the Barcelonan Branch of the Infinity Alliance. ("My wife introduced me to so much joy and peace, but I was never satisfied… Lord Valdo made sure of that. It seems like everytime I crawl out of the water, the count lures me back in. He doesn't want to see me happy… He only wants someone to run the Church for him. But…after all that I've done…Katherine wouldn't dare take me in. Even if I begged and pleaded her to, she would never, **ever** take me in… Unless…")_

_The archbishop gets an ingenious idea._

_("…I've got to make things right. I don't know how, I don't know when… But, as sure as God forgave us of our sins…I will make sure to clear my name. Wendy, I know this is how you would want things to go. Damien, Stuart, everyone…after all I've done to you…I pray that you grant me the honor of making a clean slate for myself.")_

* * *

><p><em>The archbishop enters through the front entrance, holding his solidified wound with a ginger left hand.<em>

He looks around to see the damage he's brought to innocent people. In his heart, Thaddeus regrets having done these terrible things. Such violence is not characteristic of a true holy man.

_("What have I done?") he relieves himself of his hood, showing his face to the mass of injured people recovering in the lobby area._

_The archbishop travels into the waiting room, running into the image of his former rival and current enemy tending to the injured. Remembering his goals, the ecclesiast approaches a fallen nurse and begins healing her using a secondary medical attribute of his existence – a simple touch to the head can help with a person's mental healing process. _

_"What are you doing?" the sound of his former rival's stern voice does not alternate his vision. John walks up to Thaddeus, grabs him by his robes and lifts him off of his feet. Yuvraj arrives to his comrades side…and is instantly stunned by the archbishop's real face. John reprimands the archbishop for his heartless endeavors. "What you've done here is beyond cruel, you sick son of a bitch! Some of these people have already lost their lives, there's no way to bring them back! How dare you show your face here, especially after what you've done!"_

_Thaddeus laughs at the sight of his former rival's anger._

**_"What's so damn funny, you psychotic freak?" snaps the optic master._**

_"You condemn me, even though your past is tainted with the same blood that I spilt? Your ignorance knows no limit, does it? Unhand me, you bitter old hack! Don't get cavalier with me because I beat you for the position you worked your entire immortal life to obtain."_

**_"Burn in hell!"_**_ John tosses his old rival to the ground, rearing his right fist for a killing blow. Yuvraj holds onto his comrade's vengeful fist, alerting the enraged optic master. "What are you doing, Raj? Let go – I'm going to put an end to his perverted mind games, once and for all!"_

_The time bender punches some sense into his comrade with a strong right fist, knocking John to the ground. Yuvraj smiles upon John's brash behavior._

_"John, it's not like you to think from your loins. Forgive my physical reaction, but I knew no other way to shut you up."_

**_"What did you attack me?"_**

_"I'm pretty sure these people felt the same way, before some of them lost their lives", Yuvraj looks around him, noticing the suffering that has befallen the innocent. "Brother Hennigan, do you remember how it felt…when Damien forgave you of your trespasses?"_

_The optic master is silenced by his comrade's knowledge. John can say nothing, he can only allow the truth to be gently conveyed to him. _

_Yuvraj continues his sentimental verse, observing the kindness that the ecclesiast has kept bottled up inside of his heart…for hundreds and hundreds of years._

_"The Archbishop of the Church has lived an unfulfilling life. He's known by several other names – Thaddeus Beatles, Nicholas Nemeth, Dolph Ziggler – but they're all connected to one sorrowful old soul. Torn between the love of his beautiful wife and the deceptions of the count, this man is trying his very best to make up for the sins of the past. John, ask yourself something – Do these selfless actions sound familiar?"_

_John stands to his feet, looks to the nursing ecclesiast and attempts to understand his position… It hits him, the sting of reality. Thaddeus hasn't anywhere else to turn, just like he did not too long ago. The optic master feels terrible for yelling at his old rival during his emotional healing process._

_"The choice is up to you, John", Yuvraj's voice awakens his comrade from his daydream. "Either leave him be, go and apologize to him, or attempt to take the life of an injured man…like a coward. Whatever transpires after your decision is your own doing. The repercussions of your actions, well, that'll be left up to the Founder."_

"Don't down-size my maturity, Raj", John departs from his comrade, and travels to his old rival's side.

_The time bender humoredly snickers, "Hmph. He always was the silly type, and always will be."_

**_The optic master suddenly feels the presence of a monstrous existence!_**

**_Raj feels the same thing!_**

_"He's come for me", Thaddeus's words catches his former rival's attention. The ecclesiast stands to his feet, having healed a large portion of the survivors. His face is dark with fearful anticipation. "The count – he's come for me. I can't fight him. If I do, I won't be able to help you from the shadows."_

_"What are you talking about? You're **really** going to go back to him? **Just like that?**"_

**_"Is there any other way, Johnny?" _**_the archbishop's sternness silences his rival's anger. Thaddeus turns on his heel and departs from the lobby. He leaves the junior members with sorrowful words. "Can you defeat him with your level of power? No…**none** of you can. John, you should know that just as well as I do… There's no defeating a monster like Count Valdo. There is only…death."_

_"Thaddeus, please, don't go back!" John begins to give into his emotions, running up to his former rival in tears. The optic master grabs his former rival by his robes, turns him around and lifts him off of his feet. Thaddeus looks down to a pathetic image – John's heart is breaking to pieces. "I…I've **always** wanted to end this rivalry. It's pointless – I just want to be your **friend**, Thaddeus! I couldn't forgive you for what did, but…Raj helped me to see the truth. You're…just like me. Please, please…let me help you. Stop being so cowardly towards the count for once!"_

**_"Enough of this foolishness, boy!"_**_ the archbishop's mournful voice calms his former rival's lamenting anger. John places his rival on his feet, allowing Thaddeus to embrace him. "I'm doing this to save your life. I've done too much to stay here, some things that are better left unsaid… You know how Katherine is – she won't take me in unless I make a door for myself. She's **always** been a stubborn old broad, even when we mated during the Renaissance… I leave you with a promise, John… I may be far away, but I'll always be near you. I vow my life to return to you, no matter what it costs me in the end."_

_The archbishop releases his new friend from his warm embrace._

_The automatic entrance opens… Thaddeus looks over his shoulder, noticing that his dark lord is standing several feet away from the hospital doors. Without another word, the ecclesiast departs with serious expression… John's stubbornness gets the best of him._

_"Thaddeus…don't go…" he runs forward, attempting to stop his friend from leaving… But, it's too late – the water master has liquefied his body, causing John's hands to suffer an icy sting with just one touch. The optic master quickly pulls his frozen right hand out of his friend's ice cold body. He clutches his jaws together, enduring the pain of his limb slowly recovering from its solidified state. "**Grr…!** Thaddeus…don't you dare… Don't you **dare** give into him! **Thaddeus!**"_

_("Damn you, Hennigan…making me cry…") the archbishop places his hood over his head, and walks into his dark lord's cold embrace. Count Valdo looks down to his loyal archbishop, not noticing the tears that his servant hides in the darkness of his hood. Thaddeus's heart is resonating with his rival's – he doesn't want to go either, but he has to. For the sake of everyone in the hospital, he has to leave. He has to remain a slave. The count expands his cloak, with his existence, causing it to slowly veil his party's image. As this happens, Thaddeus sends a telepathic message to his suffering rival. ("John, I feel the same way… I've never wanted to be your enemy, but fate has always been cruel to me. My impulses also place me in dire straits, time and time again. I've caused so many people grief, I've brought death…all for the sake of this man here. However, from this day forward, I will help you to destroy this man…in my own little way… Farewell, until we meet again…my spiritual brother. I ask that you find it in your heart to forgive me…just as I've done for you.")_

_Dirty Diana materializes the veiled couple into a departing colony of vampire bats._

_From the emergency ward, we're able to view the painful departure. Just looking upon John's pained soul sets us all into a state of sympathy for him. Not even the strongest man can take loss with a grain of salt, especially if the person's someone you share an emotional attachment with. John's a very sensitive person, so his suffering must be consuming… I'm just glad that Damien's not awake to see this._

_It'd surely break his heart._

_"Thaddeus, you…**YOU DUMBASS…!**" John's sorrowful cry echoes into the night sky._

_Yuvraj approaches his heartbroken comrade and helps tend to his emotions, placing a brotherly left hand on John's shoulder. The lamented optic master clings onto his caring friend, allowing the timer bender to embrace him with warm arms… Raj smiles, knowing that John finally understands what he was trying to tell him. It's a moral that every man should faithfully practice… The lesson learned:_

_You should never condemn another when your hands are tainted with the blood of iniquity. No man has the right to do the otherwise, lest he lives his life as a coward._

_"Let's go get some rest, my friend", Yuvraj escorts his comrade into the main lobby._

_"…Okay", nods the mourning junior._

_The rest of the night goes by smoothly. We all find rest, allowing the night to bring us a small hint if peace… But, once again, a sour feeling curses our party._

_It's funny – Lord Alexander cursed Thaddeus with a permanent status ailment. Yet, in the end, the archbishop left us with a cold chunk of guilt in our hearts. I guess it's true… What goes around, really comes around in the end. Then again…fate is a cruel mistress. We can only act according to the basis that it sets for us, hoping that the outcome isn't a grim one._

__The battle to bring an end the bloodshed continues…__

* * *

><p><strong><em><em>(Ending Theme 2 – "Colors" by Utada Hikaru)<em>_**

* * *

><p><strong><em><em>(Up Next: Chapter 15 – Man in the Mirror)<em>_**


	16. Chapter 15: Man in the Mirror

**_BLOOD/Night_**

* * *

><p><em>At Rutherford Castle, the vampire king gazes into the brilliance of the early morning horizon.<em>

"Over 500 years…" King Henry recalls his past endeavors, feeling the repercussions of his ambitions and loyalty. Visions scroll through his mind like a tragic movie. _("…For over 500 years, we, the children of the night, have fought to gain supremacy over the human race. It's a cruel and twisted campaign; yet and still, such struggle is vital and of the utmost importance. To sustain our existence, the human race must become our tools of survival. It's the only way we know… It's the only road we can take, regardless of what my ex-wife, Katherine, has to say… Katherine MacArthur – the rebellious femme fatale that has spawned a monumental movement against our cause. There was once a time in our lives that we deeply loved each other, yet it was the words of 'certain interferers' that turned her heart. Paddington, Andrew, Frederic, Christopher, Wendy, Alexander… Time and time again, these six __**miscreants**__ took something away from me. Though these 'things' were rather small, the gash left behind destroys me with a silent whisper of doom. The blood flow – it has yet to cease its draining course… Speaking of 'blood'…")_

King Henry sees visions of his most trusted comrades, standing in epic position…one after the other.

_("…Father Christian White, Archbishop Thaddeus Beatles, Bishop Jean-Claude Delouse, Deacon Benjamin D'Elany, Cardinal Niccolò Giuliani, Pope Leonard de Bleus – the men who have stood by my side, supporting me for ages…and ages. Sadly, Father Christian…was killed by the fledgling; the descendant of Lord Frederic; the grandson of Christopher. Stuart Bennett…__**another**__ thorn in my side. Not only that, but he has Alexander's great-nephew, Damien, standing faithfully at his side… A half-breed and a half-eater giving me problems? I would've never guessed it… Still, even when combined with the powers of their friends, those two aren't a match for the Patrons of the Church. Count Valdo, Pope Leonard, and myself – We'd take them all down with a single stroke of our existence… Besides, I've already gained my revenge on a certain someone.")_

A knock comes from his chamber door, planning a devilish smile on his obscured profile.

"You may enter", with the king's permission, his loyal Dietrich enters his bedchamber.

"_Henry, when are we leaving for New Halen City?"_

"How many times must I tell you, Frederic?" the king turns on his heel, shooting his servant a calm stare. Lord Frederic cuts a humored leer at him. "You'll see your great-grandson, soon enough. It's only a matter of time before you're reunited with your baby boy, as well. You push so much, but you're unable to move…_unless_ I permit it… And, please, for once in your miserable life…would you stop calling me _'Henry'_? I'm your _'master'_, not your friend; your crony; your associate; _none_ of those things."

"_Aww, but 'Henry' rolls off the tongue so much better", mockingly pouts the Dietrich, sparking a little annoyance in his master. King Henry holds his head and releases an exasperated sigh. "Oh come, come now. Since when did you get so high and mighty, Henry? That crown of yours doesn't mean a thing to me; you should know that better than anyone else… Lest you forget, I'm not one to oblige the demands of authority figures."_

"You remind me of that every single day, you obstinate _blowhard_!" snaps the king, turning his back to the snickering Dietrich with aversive expression.

Lord Frederic walks up to his king, standing at his left side. Like the sardonic old man that he is, the corrupted pureblood begins petting the king with a brotherly right hand.

"_There, there – you should be used to that by now. I may be a Dietrich, but I'm always going to be myself, regardless of what you've done to alternate my emotions."_

"I'm well aware of that, thank you very much", Henry swats the old man's hand away. "Stop that. I'm not some lost little bat cub."

"_Hmph. How strange…" the dark servant's cynical laughter grasps the king's attention. "…It's funny, you know. You just said that you're not 'a lost little bat cub', yet you walk 'a blind path'. Ask yourself something, 'master' – Have you been living 'an open-eyed life' for the past 500 and some odd number of years? Or…has it been the complete opposite of that?"_

Being the stubborn old fool that he is, King Henry chooses to ignore that question… Though the Dietrich has a point, the king refuses to recognize such straitlaced reasoning. Most vampires, especially those of the olden times, are dogged and tenacious creatures. Such estimable persistence and drive is only expected of a man like the King of Vampires. A stalwart to the end, regardless of the situation set before him.

"Frederic, we leave for New Halen come the late evening. By that time, Katherine and her flock of puppies should be there waiting for us. You'll meet your descendant soon enough, I promise you that."

"_Good show, old man…good show", Lord Frederic parts from his master with a victorious giggle._

His chamber door is shut, signaling his servant's departure.

Even in his spiritually corrupted state, Lord Frederic finds little ways to get under the king's skin. One such as the King of Vampires comes with a dozen open wounds; some of which have been left accessible for _hundreds_ of years. Still, these 'open wounds' have yet to stop his tyrannical ambitions.

The time will come when I must face the king in mortal combat, but that event is _many_ days from now. Even with my current level of power, which is great in proportion…_I don't think I could stand up to him._ Nattie has told me stories of the king's _existence of darkness, Dark Side Moon…_ I'm not very fond of _any_ of them, and I'm certain that he'd claim my head if we met.

Still, that's avoidable in _more_ ways than one… For, you see, I'm to be discharged from the Willington Municipal Hospital by 6PM tomorrow. Right after that, we're going to relocate from Willington to New Halen City. Katherine has a small faction there that's offering their assistance to us – _a sensible band of human supporters called "The Rolling Stones"._ I can only pray that things go smoothly for us… After last night's events, especially after the death of _several_ innocents, I'm not up to engaging in _another "senseless confrontation"._

_Unfortunately, fate hasn't been on my side as of late…so the worst is always expected._

* * *

><p><em><strong>(<strong><em>Opening Theme 2 – "Chikyuugi" by Matsuzawa Yumi)<em>****_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 15 – <strong>**Man in the Mirror**_

* * *

><p><em>It is now 7:30 AM in the morning, and I'm awakening from very peaceful slumber.<em>

The night was a rough one for the lot of us, but we managed to find a hint of solace in our heartbreak. To think, Thaddeus led a life where he was constantly being manipulated by the count. It's beyond saddening; it's just…cruel…and greedy on the count's part.

Stephen informed me of Thaddeus's marital ties to the Head of the Barcelonan Branch. I was left speechless, and even more infuriated by the count's actions. To be honest, I think I've never felt this displeased with someone's actions; unless we're talking about Darren… _The bastard._ Just saying that name leaves _a sour taste_ in the back of my throat… He's gone now, so I shouldn't hold onto such feelings…not anymore.

_"Mmm, good morrow", lethargically greets my awakening boy._

"Good morrow, Sweets. How did you sleep?"

_"You're like a pillow, love", he plants a gentle kiss on my neck, making me giggle just a bit. Damien strokes the lining of my johnny gown with his right hand. "How are you after last night, dear? Still feel like hell?"_

"Not really, no. Just…a little emotionally drained."

_"Did you get rid of the archbishop?"_

"…No, not really", I hesitate.

Damien looks at my face, recognizing my expressions – I'm a bit upset about what happened last night.

_"Daddy, what's wrong? Did something happen after I was knocked out?"_

"Yes, something did happen", I confess, biting my tongue to the truth.

_"What happened, dear? Something bad?"_

"No…something…very sad, actually."

_"Like what?"_

"John, he…" I hesitate, feeling as if I'm saying too much. "…I think you should talk with him about it, dear. It's not for me to say – I'd be dishonoring his private life."

_"I understand, Daddy. I won't make you say it if you don't want to. Besides…"_

My Sweets lays his head on my chest, listening to my heartbeat. He closes his eyes, fantasizing about our future marriage.

_"…Besides, I'd rather just lay here with you. Listening to your heart; thinking of beautiful things."_

"Beautiful things, you say?"

_"Yes, dear. You and me – together…forever."_

"Mm, yes, that sounds lovely", I gently stroke my fingers through his hair, using my right hand. He giggles, being tickled by my touch. "Oh, that makes you laugh does it?"

_"I get sheepish when you touch me, dear. You should know that by now."_

"An ugly bastard like me? Making you giggle with a simple touch? Well…miracles do happen."

_"Oh, stop that", he scoots up and gives me a kiss on the lips. "Now you know good and well, mister – you're not ugly, never have been, never will be… Even if you didn't look as dashing as you do, your kind heart makes up for it. Daddy, you're the most handsome man in the world to me."_

"And you're the most beautiful, my Sweets", I let my boy plant another kiss on my lips, before he cuddles up against me. I love it when we cuddle, snugged together like two lovebirds. It makes me feel wanted – appreciated for being there with him. Damien doesn't realize it…but I enjoy these times more than anything else in the world. "I've a confession to make. It'll probably sound silly."

_"What is it, Daddy?"_

"Would it be strange of me to say…that laying in a hospital bed with you is…well…arousing?"

_"Well, your quite the peculiar chap", he makes me laugh with his observational sense of humor. Damien laughs with me, just like he always does. "A hospital bed, sexy? Are you serious?"_

"No, of course not. Just making sure our 'cake of wit' is evenly divided, that's all."

_"Hee-hee, you're too much", he giggles, caressing the lining of my chest._

My room door is opened…

…Lord Alexander's entered, checking up on the both of us like the devoted elder that he is.

"Good morrow, lovebirds. How did you sleep?"

_"Uncle Alex?" Damien departs from my bed, runs up to his great-uncle and falls into his embrace. "Oh, Uncle! Where have you been all this time? I was so worried about you – you didn't call, you didn't write, nothing."_

"Wandering around, looking for something to do. You know how I am – I can't sit still for the life of me."

_"That's no excuse, you know", my boy's spoiled behavior makes the old man giggle._

_My word – the Sanity Crown's influence is **that** powerful? Damien's never acted this way around him, so the affects must've wore off during his unconsciousness… What power. Lord Alexander's pretty effing amazing._

"How's your head, young Master Stuart?" he asks, looking at me through his glimmering spectacles.

_"It's a lot better, thank you. Did you rest easy, Uncle Al?"_

"Have you ever slept on a hospital bench? Does a number on your back, it does."

The old man's wry sense of humor tickles me. Damien looks up to his uncle, receiving a light petting from his elder's right hand. The Crusnik lord approaches me, and has a seat in the chair next to my bed.

"Damien, be a good boy and join your friends. Uncle Alex has to have _a little talk_ with your fiancé."

_"You just better be nice to him, mister", Damien demandingly points his finger at his uncle._

"Run along and play, young man. I'm doing my _'senior's duties'_, that's all."

_"Hmph. I'll buy that one", my fiancé leaves the room, shutting the door behind him._

"By the moon, that boy's a handful and a half", sighs the ageless Crusnik lord, tickling me once again.

We men begin to have a descent conversation… I already know what he's trying to do. Any man feels the need to protect his family. It's only natural that he interrogates me, like the concerned uncle that he is.

"Young Master Stuart, what are your plans for my nephew?"

_"I plan to love him to the best of me…" my words grasp the old man's attention, gaining his interest and a hint of his admiration. "…Not only that. I plan to make him the happiest man alive; to honor and protect him; love him and care for him; support him and make sure that he always has a warm meal, even if I must go without. I will trust his word, knowing that he will never lie to or deceive me… For, and I know this for certain… he loves me back. Damien wants all these and more for me. But, most of all…we trust one another. I've never trusted another man for as long as I've walked the face of this earth. That is why…I know he's the one for me. That's why I want to marry him, Uncle Al."_

"I always thought you were straight. What changed you so quickly?"

_"Your nephew did", Alexander's never looked me so sharply in my eyes before. It's like he's peering into my soul; a cold, dark yet loving stare filled with order and authority. I choke on my words for a second, but I find the courage to speak to my future kin. "Your nephew…he… He showed me that love comes from all walks of life; man, woman, child, animal, nature… That it's up to me to choose whom I wish to spend my life with. Through him, I learned the affections of a man. I fancied those affections, taking to them day by passing day. Around the time that I broke up with Eve, I was extremely vulnerable… Damien didn't leave my side."_

"He romanced you…didn't he?"

_"In more ways than one, yes", we share a little laughter, knowing how much of a little charmer Damien can be. "I couldn't help myself, Uncle Al. Damien…has got to be the most exquisite and loving person I've ever met. Beautiful, inside and out…just amazingly beautiful. He's…he's like a rose, just before its petals bloom. It's closed for a split second, but then it opens and releases a sweet scent of nature. It's beauty speaks of love and adoration; it's touch is soft; it may have thorns on it –his rather frightening temper …"_

"Tell me about it", we share more laughter, bonding as men.

_"…Yes, but…I just… I don't know how to explain it, Uncle Al."_

"That's because you really _are_ in love, young master", my senior's wise verse silences me, and my attention is grasped. "When you're truly in love, you can't find a reason for it. It's natural – a feeling that's heaven-sent and secure. Other people's words…they mean nothing. Nothing at all. If you can't find a reason as to why you love him, only sweet and fond memories, you're with the right one. But, ask yourself this – Can and _will_ you make it work? And…will _he_ continue to do the same thing?"

I can't quite understand what he's trying to tell me… The words of the wise are always shrouded with mystery. I can only take his advice and run along with it.

"Young master, we're to leave for New Halen City come this evening", he begins, adjusting his posture in his seat. My future uncle fixes his glasses, making the room feel a bit tense for me. "I want you to think about what I've just said to you. I like you, boy…but you're playing a dangerous mental game with yourself. You lack on some levels, but not many goes without fault in a relationship."

_"Do you have any pointers?"_

"Trust is good, but don't walk around blind. That's what happened to Thaddeus – look at where its landed him… In the hands of a bloodsucking tyrant. Trust me, you don't want to get caught up in a Crusnik's web of desire… Take it from me, your future uncle."

_"Why are you telling me this?" I ask, curious about his foreboding words._

"Crusniks are a special breed, young master. We feed off of emotion, but we become weary after consuming too much of it. We regurgitate the excess through our impulses, and we can get ourselves into trouble. I sometimes find myself having to be rebuked by Father Andrew. That man knows how to keep me in line; one of the reasons why we're close chums."

_"So…you're saying...?"_

"I heard you, Stuart. Don't smother him too much, especially with strange little lines about hospital beds. That's a sure way to turn him off – you don't want that, trust me."

_"Yes, that was rather odd of me", we share a little laughter, once again. "I guess I was a bit odd at the moment, carrying on about a hospital bed being sexy."_

"Frederic's the same way. You two look an awful lot alike. It's almost as if you were his twin. In a way, I feel awkward looking you in the face… It's like he ripped his skin off and put it on your body, or something of the sort. It'll be funny once you meet him, which will be sooner than we think."

I'm not following him on this one.

_"What do you mean by that, Uncle Al?"_

"The king…we're going to meet him…" his words grasp my attention, and I am drawn in to his dramatic verse. "…If you don't already know, the king of vampires, Henry of Aldington…he plans to meet up with us."

_"How do you know that?"_

"My dreams, young master… My dreams are always prophetic; visions of what's to come in the future. I've lived with the curse of knowing the future before it even happens…for as long as I can remember. Through my dreams, I foresaw the annihilation of my people. Though I fought with all of my might to prevent this, the foreseen act of genocide…was unavoidable… The Crosse Family is _all_ that's left of the Crusnik Race. Other than that, we're an extinct civilization. The Church made sure of that."

_"What of my great-grandfather? How is he involved in all of this?"_

"Frederic…will be at the king's side", the Crusnik lord's words freeze me with a thick shell of fear. He continues on with more foreboding monologue. "I'm not so sure how Frederic survived his execution, but everyone seems to feel just as you do… They're disturbed. I'm in the same mood as the rest of our pack. It'd pain me to have to confront Fred, especially after all we've been through. However, the king's _Dark Side Moon _will make sure of it; that we'll develop bad blood with our _most_ _valued_ _patron_."

_"Is there any way to stop it from happening?"_

"I'm afraid not, young master", the Crusnik lord stands from his chair, carrying a sad expression behind his glared spectacles. "As much as we'd like to prevent the inevitable, the king will have it no other way. Frederic's mind, body and soul belongs to him now. Once Dark Side Moon has you ensnared in its grasp…there's _no_ escaping it, _not even if you fought with all of your might_."

_"So…you're saying you've…?"_

_Lord Alexander dematerializes his jacket and dress shirt using his biological energy, revealing to me a very grim image engraved in the center of his back._

_"What the–?" my eyes widen to the sight of a wide, ugly and **eerie** arachnid-shaped scar on my future uncle's back. "How **dreadful**… Uncle Al, did he do this to you?"_

"It's a constant reminder of how _dangerous_ the count is. This scar is a special, yet _nasty_ mark left behind by his _Unpleasant Forte immobilization spell_. Much like my ability to solidify any given matter, the count has the power to _fossilize anything with a single touch_. We, the master hosts of our people, engaged in a _pivotal_ scuffle that left us with _permanent battle scars_. _Today marks the 300th anniversary of our legendary encounter_."

_"What was fighting him like, Uncle Al?"_

"Brutal…yet…_extremely_ invigorating, at least for me", my future kin rematerializes his top onto his body, turns to me and gives me a serious ogle. "Valdo is…a _unique_ breed of vampire. _He possesses the muscle of a pureblood, the abilities of an eater, and the invulnerabilities of a Strigoi._ The Master of All Vampires…is an enigma of power, but a frail one who succumbs to his impulses _more_ _than any creature in the entire universe… _That alone makes him _weak_; a _target_ for those more composed and well-structured than him. _People like me – for example._"

_"So, you're saying…there's a way to defeat him?"_

"Yes, but I've _yet_ to discover the method", my future uncle approaches my hospital room door, places his right hand on the doorknob and looks back to me one last time. He speaks vitalizing words of wisdom to me, building up my level of confidence. "However, I've a mind to believe that _you'll_ be the one to formulate _'a sure-win strategy'_… That _you'll_ be the one to defeat the count, young Master Stuart."

**_Me…defeat the count? Is he serious?_**

_"But…how could I, when…?"_

"You've the power to do it, young master", his confidence in me instills a stroke of power in my spirit. I hold my right hand to my face, gazing at how fleshy and normal it looks. "Think about it, Stuart. _Those hands slew the most powerful necromancer in the universe – Father Christian White; White Album, the Chanter of Elegies._ _I've crippled the Archbishop of the Church – Thaddeus Elmer Beatles; Dancer of the Gold Experience. His guilt caused a great change of heart, giving us a valuable ally and an irreplaceable double agent._ Those accomplishments have brought a great triumph to _all_ races, bringing us closer to unifying as one. The time of peace is near… I'm _sure_ of it, young master – _sure as the blood coursing through my veins, which has kept me alive for over 9 centuries_."

_"I've the power…to defeat the count", I ball my right hand into a tight fist, feeling unbeatable – like I'm capable of anything, if I put my mind, body and soul into it. "You're right, Uncle Al. Paradise City has become **10-times** more powerful than it was when I first discovered it. The ability to correct the laws of physics; the healing power of the Cruel Angelica; the unrelenting forte of the Sunlight Finger; the crushing force of the Eye of Helios… And, my strongest attack – **5000-Degrees Sunlight Finger**. Though it took a **lot** out of me, that one attack **dominated** the Chanter of Elegies. I have to thank my grandfather for donating his spirit to that technique; I would've **never** found the muscle to pull something like that off…all on my own."_

"In time, young master…" Lord Alexander opens the door, steps through it and looks to me with a smile. He places his hand on the door, and gives me parting words of wisdom. "…In time, you'll find the courage to execute and _master_ that technique. It may very well be _'the ace in your deck of cards'_… I shall take my leave, and allow you to consider the words I've shared with you… _I like you, boy._ You're an _excellent_ mate for my nephew. Just, _please_, for the sake of your relationship…try _not_ to perform so ludicrously? Hospital beds, _sexy_…? Hmph. Honestly now, boy. You should study up on your _'pillow talk'_."

_What a senile old kook._ Still, you've got to _love_ his paternal honesty… I'm beginning to take a liking to my future uncle; he makes this relationship seem…_fun and exciting._ A learning experience, in so many words.

__Hmm. So many words. Perhaps I should take Uncle Al's words into consideration, and start believing in myself…just a little bit more.__

* * *

><p><em>"Mother Wendy, you requested to see me?"<em>

"Yes, Christopher, I did", my grandfather stands in the midst of the Barcelonan Branch's _Neverland Office_. Grandpa Christopher graces the presence of _Mother Wendy Darling_, the head of the extended place of operations. The ageless beauty smiles warmly with her newest transferred radical. "I'm pleased that you've considered my offer, to work at my side as _'a right-hand man'_. You've _more_ than earned that position, and it's best for you to get away from Rutherford for a while."

_My grandfather tips his big black hat to his superior, "The pleasure's all mine, Mother Wendy."_

"Mother Kate has just informed me of the Archbishop's change of loyalty. We'd do well to play this to our advantage, Christopher – Thaddeus has more of an influence on the count than _any other_ vampire, _or_ human for that matter. I've also been informed that the King, Henry of Aldington, plots to rendezvous with Kate's party at the midpoint to Rutherford – New Halen City. Hostility is unavoidable at this point."

_"Does the king have a motive behind this visitation?" my grandfather correctly adjusts his hat by its brim._

"Mother Kate believes that he's plotting to abduct the Strigoi."

_"Hmm? You mean…Brother Johnny?"_

"Yes, Brother Jonathan Curtis. It appears that our research facility has discovered something _very special_ about the young man… Something that'll _surely_ spark immediate actions from the count."

Mother Wendy's mysterious verse rouses my grandfather's curiosity. Grandpa Christopher approaches his superior's desk, takes a seat in her visitor's chair, and pays close attention to her.

"What's this big secret, Mother Wendy?"

_"The Strigoi…has biological ties to the count", the confession freezes my grandfather in place, covering him with a thick shell of astonishment. Mother Wendy rests her elbows on her desk, clasps her fingers together, closes her eyes and continues speaking. Her voice is filled with concern. "I know. I'm just as stunned by the news… Our biological researchers have confirmed that Brother Curtis's ties to the count are 100% accurate; the percentile equivalent to that of a biological offspring."_

"So…you're saying that…?"

_"According to the Bylaws of Procreation, Brother Curtis…is the count's illegitimate son", the second confession doesn't strike my grandfather as much as the first. However, Grandpa Christopher's taking this information seriously. "The Strigoi race is a taboo combination of a normal pureblood vampire and a Japanese kyonshī, a hopping vampire. Depending on the strength of the donor's genetics, the Strigoi can look like either one of the parental bodies; in this case, Brother Curtis appears to have inherited his father's gnomic composition."_

"I've seen the count's face before… It's an _extremely_ handsome one; a profile that I'll never forget, for as long as I live. It's true…Johnny looks _just_ like his old man. Scary little sight, to say the least."

_"Christopher, can I entrust his safety to you?" my grandfather lowers his head a little, sporting a cocky grin. Mother Wendy laughs at herself. "Forgive me, my boy. I forget whom I'm speaking with."_

"_Hmph._ Mother Wendy…" my grandfather stands from his chair, holding the brim of his hat like the cool old timer that he is. Grandpa Christopher lifts his head, showing his superior a set of invigorated eyes. "…I promise. I won't let that boy out of my sight, not for a split second. Besides, he's rolling with my grandson's posse. I think it's time that I spent some 'quality time' with _my little Sunny Boy_… I'd also like to give my _future_ grandson-in-law some sugar. Lord knows he deserves it; _cute_ little something, he is."

_"Now, now…" laughs the wise mother superior. "…You shouldn't go causing trouble for your grandson. Lord, help him – you never cease to wander around, behaving like a storybook Romeo. You've a couple of our female residents squandering for your affections, and it's only been a week or so since you registered with us."_

"Can't help it if I'm a _handsome_ old dog, Mother Wendy", my grandfather sports an arrogant grin, twiddling his toothpick in his fangs. "_Heh-heh._ Makes an old man feel _special_, having all those _little pretties_ flocking at my feet… Speaking of which, how's your hubby? Still fooling around with the count?"

_"Haven't you heard?"_

"What's going on with that old goat, lost his hat or something?"

_"No… Thaddeus is on our side now", reports the mother superior._

_"He is…?"_ my grandfather jumps back in shock. The mother superior giggles at how excitable her newest recruit is. Grandpa Christopher clears his throat and composes his self. "_Ahem._ So, what happened? And why wasn't I informed _earlier_? News like this shouldn't go unannounced, you know."

_"Lord Alexander cursed him with the Heart of Glass", my grandfather hoots with understanding, knowing the kind of side effects the Crusnik lord's magic has on his victims. "We all know that the Crusnik lord has the ability to solidify things, but his power comes with an empathic side effect… A certain feeling is awakened, depending on the area infected by the ailment technique; regret; sorrow; solitude; rage; justice amongst many others. In this case, the Archbishop was infected with a **strong** surge of guilt and humility."_

"Hmm, empathy…" my grandfather approaches the office entrance, turns to his mother superior and beams her a humored leer. "…That old bastard _always_ _was_ chock full of surprises. It'd explain why Thaddeus turned as quickly as he did; then again, it was only a matter of time before his _true_ feelings came out."

_"True feelings? What do you mean by that?"_

"Thaddeus…has _always_ loved us, despite his role in the Church", Mother Wendy's humbled by my grandfather's words. "Think about it, Mother Wendy. Before Count Valdo recruited him, was he _really_ this uncontrollable? 'Cuz, from what I heard…he wasn't that bad. See ya, Mother Wendy."

My grandfather takes his leave, having instilled a mode of contemplation in his mother superior. Mother Wendy lounges in her chair, gazing reminiscently at the ceiling with a warm smile.

_("He's right. Thaddeus…was never that bad, in the beginning at least. I should know that better than anyone else… How kind he can be. His smile…")_

Mother Wendy remembers the first time that she met the archbishop, centuries before the Romance. A warm summer's night; May 19th, 1275; Rutherford Square, during the Festival of Lights.

_("…He was so debonair – a sparkling image of a man, swaddled in the robes of a priest. He romanced me, showed me the ways of love. Before him, no man could make me smile like he did. A few years later, I married him in that same place. A wedding, amidst the evening moon and stars. I could never forget it… But then, the count became furious…and took him away from me.")_

Mother Wendy recalls the vague memory of the count's interference. The thought of it boils her soul with anger, making her furiously clutch onto her armrests.

_("Curse fate! Fate, yes – the threads of destiny has cursed us both unbearable sorrow… Valdo, you won't get away with this! I'll make you suffer for what you've done – This I swear, with every inch of my immortal life!")_

"Mother Wendy, do you have a moment?" the mother superior's attention is grasped by the arrival of one of her Methuselahs. She smiles upon the image of Brother Kevin, who has become like a son to her. The cyborg marksman delivers a letter to his mother superior. She takes it and begins reading it. "It's a letter from the Cardinal. It arrived earlier this morning, at precisely 4:30AM."

_"Why so early?"_

"_The Nocturnal Postal Service – open from 10:30 PM to 5:00 AM._ It's been Cardinal Niccolò's favorite mail deliverer, since 1896. I do my research."

_The mother superior sees something that sparks her interest, "I say. It appears as if he wants to make me an offer. I'm almost led to respond – having Niccolò extend something to me on such short notice."_

"Will you answer him back?"

_"Perhaps", Mother Wendy stands from her chair and leaves her desk. The loving mother superior hugs her favorite Methuselah, petting him with a mother's kindness. "Please, watch over things for me in my absence. I'm to travel to Florence, Italy to meet with the cardinal."_

"Aren't you afraid of Church hostiles?"

_"Don't worry, Kevin", the mother superior releases her son figure, and departs from him with tender words. "You should know better – the Mother Superior of the Barcelona Branch…is **more** than capable of protecting herself. This, more than anything, is pure fact."_

_The mother superior leaves her Neverland Office, placing a mode of confusion in her son figure. Brother Kevin chuckles a little, humored by the ageless beauty's nerve._

_"Women, I tell you", he scratches his head, realizing that human women and vampiresses are one in the same. "Regardless of the race, nothing changes. You've gotta love it… However, I should indulge in the fine ladies outside. They're calling to me."_

"Oh, Brother Kevin!" swoons a horde of loving female fans outside of the Office window. The marksman walks to the window, greeting his adoring female fans by blowing them a kiss. The fans go wild with adoration. "_Aah!_ We love you, Brother Kevin! Marry me! Love me! _No, me!_ _Not you, me! Stop copying me!_"

_Brother Kevin laughs at his luck, shooting a peace sign with his right hand, "Heh-heh-heh-heh. Who says cyborgs can't get a little fun out of life? 100 cool points for me! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"_

**_All of a sudden, a metal rod whacks him on the top of his head!_**

**_"YOWCH!"_**_ the playboy Methuselah holds onto his aching skull, feeling the bludgeoning weapon's cold sting. It doesn't hurt that much, due to his skeleton being covered with a cybernetic shell of crimson matter. However, it stings well enough to make him painfully flinch. The marksman turns around in a fit of anger. **"What's the big idea? Hitting me like that, you –?"**_

Brother Kevin's silenced by the image of a fellow Lost Boy. Sister Eve's arrived, having elongated her metal staff to reach her comrade from a remote distance.

"What are you laughing at, _pervert_?" the beautiful combat specialist retracts her metal staff, compacting it into a small, portable size in her right hand. She stores it in a metal compartment on her left hip, folds her arms and smiles at her mischievous comrade. "Causing trouble with the humans, again? Like always?"

_"No, I was just–!"_

"Mother Wendy wouldn't want you troubling girls like that, you know. You're starting to act like Father Christopher, that _dirty_ old man. You should've _seen_ him – trying to get my phone number like some 16-year-old hot boy. Almost made me throw up."

_"Are you a lesbian?" asks the confused marksman, receiving another whack to the head from the femme cyborg's elongated staff. **"YOWCH! I was just kidding, okay! Enough with the whacking of the head, already!"**_

"For your _information_, I'm straight", Eve retracts her metal staff, placing in into its compartment on her way out. "Don't be late to practice. _Jerk._"

Brother Kevin sighs, feeling his theories have been proven to be true, "Like I said before – regardless of the race, women are _all_ the same. Except for that _bitch_… _Talk about a bitter, man-hating Amazon._"

_Sister Eve steps from behind the door, tossing a thick reference book at her comrade's head!_

**_"I heard that!"_**_ the volume knocks the playboy Methuselah out with one hit. The marksman is laid out in a comical display of 'mock rigor mortis'. The beautiful combat specialist dusts her hands off, smiles and departs from the room in a mode of confidence. "Hmph. Serves you right, perverted bastard."_

"Ah, shiny stars…" hallucinates the playboy cyborg, speaking in his concussion.

As usual, the Lost Boyz never seem to get along. It's a shame, a lady like Eve having to put up with a group of misfit male cyborgs – day-to-day, hour-by-hour, year-after-year. I'm still stoked, knowing that my ex-girlfriend is a Methuselah. Her services have been a big help to us, just like the rest of her elite dispatch units… However, behind her outgoing mask…she harbors deep, _sour_ feelings…_about my current relationship._

_("Stuart, why? Why did we have to break up? Wasn't I woman enough for you? Not only that, you left me for another man? Men…**all** of them are the same! I'll show you, Damien… I'll show you that I'm not the one to be underestimated. I know this is a direct violation of our company policy…but I'm going to challenge you to a fight. A fight to the death – For Stuart's love!")_

Yes, it's true. Eve is _jealous_ of Damien, because he's with me. _Any_ ex-girlfriend would be jealous of their ex's lover's preceding relationships, especially if they're _still_ holding feelings for their former lover. Most women are like that; my experiences with women have taught me this valuable life lesson. It's not like I didn't expect something like this to happen – Eve's _always_ been a jealous broad… And she'll continue to be one until the day someone _finally_ knocks some sense into her.

___If she only knew… Damien's not the one to be trifled with, especially when it comes to me – his fiancé.___

* * *

><p><em>"Itadakimasu!"<em> Brother Johnny takes a big bite of his morning breakfast, sporting off his traditional Japanese dinner etiquette. You can tell _who_ he was raised by – his kyonshī mother. Despite this, he's _extremely declarative_ about things, especially the taste of good food. The comical Strigoi dramatically gushes, reacting to his breakfast's savory flavors. _"Mmm, this great! It's a melody in my mouth – 15 herbs and spices! Ah, this is heaven!"_

_"Pipe down!" scolds the Twins, hammering their fellow rookie on the crown with their lateral fists._

Johnny holds his head in pain, "_Ouch!_ What's so bad about liking the taste of good food?"

"The noise level", I answer, taking a bite of my morning steak afterwards.

"Oh, don't be so rough on him", kindly pleas my fiancé, taking a sip of his glass of whole milk. Damien, feeling the need to join in, declares how delicious his drink is. _"Mmm. The milk in this city's such a delight. I feel like I have a dairy farm in my mouth."_

My boy's declaration gets the excitable rookie worked up.

_"I know! Isn't it wonderful?"_ cheers the passionate Strigoi; his fellow rookies threatening him with their lateral fists. Brother Johnny cringes in fright. _"Eek!_ I give, I give – no more violence!"

"Idiot", snickers Father Yuvraj under his breath.

"I heard that!" snaps the fanatical Brother Johnny, pointing his right index finger at his brutally honest superior. The time bender refuses to look at his junior, suavely sipping on his glass of O.J. Brother Johnny snaps, feeling disrespected by his senior. "_Don't you ignore me!_ Father Yuvraj, you're not supposed to be _verbally abusive to rookies!_ _It's not fair, ya stinky old man!_"

_"Would you please be quiet? You should know that I'm way too honest for my own good. Impulses, and whatnot. If I see something out of place, I address it and then I leave it alone. It's the 'gentlemanly' thing to do."_

"You're just making excuses!" snaps the offended rookie. The Twins raise their lateral fists one more time, filling their fellow rookie with fear. _"Eek! No more hitting, please?"_

_"Boys, put a lid on it!" commands the beautiful founder, silencing her radicals' verbal quarrel._

"Yes, ma'am", obeys the four troublemakers.

"Honestly, I can't go anywhere with you stooges", Natalie finishes her meal, taking the last bite of her sausage, ham and cheese omelet. She washes it down with a glass of 2% milk. "_Ah, that was good._ New Halen's always had the best diners. I better bulk up, if I'm going to have my lover's children someday."

TJ nearly chokes on his bacon strip. Nattie looks at her boyfriend with _a fierce stare_, realizing what that gesture meant. The beautiful vampiress snatches her young boyfriend's left ear with a _brutal_ right hand.

"_Ouch!_ I didn't mean anything by that, Babes!" whines the suffering youth minister.

_"Then, what was that cough for?" Natalie tightens her grip._

"_Ouch!_ You just surprised me, that's all!"

"Yeah, whatever", Natalie releases her boyfriend's year, making the rest of us laugh. Despite what he believes, TJ has the potential to be an _excellent_ father – he's fun, loving, supporting, understanding and nurturing. Nattie smiles at her younger boyfriend, knowing her lover's _still_ _unprepared_ when it comes to such topics. Siring a child is the furthest thing from the youth minister's mind. "_Alright_, enough with the whining. I'll wait a little while longer, _scaredy cat_."

"Besides, you've got to keep your girlish figure for the battles ahead", smiles my supporting fiancé.

_"Yeah, you're right about that!"_

"Aren't I always?" the loving friends share a moment of laughter.

I suddenly notice JoMo's down expressions.

_I see… He's still upset._

Uncle Al volunteered to sit directly next to the field trainee. Good old Uncle Al, supporting his younger radicals like a loving elder brother. I'm looking forward to becoming a conjugal member of his clan.

"Young Master John, are you feeling any better?" questions the spectacled Crusnik lord.

_"No. Not really, but I'll be fine."_

"Maybe you should associate yourself with someone a little…_upbeat_", the Crusnik lord takes a gander at Brother Johnny, and how he gets along with the Twins. "How about _those_ three? The _'lively set'_ over there."

The disheartened vampire looks to his junior rookies, feeling misplaced and unsure about socializing with such a _spontaneous_ set of nightwalkers. He looks to his senior confusedly.

"You…want me to hang out with _them_, _of all people_?" the Crusnik lord nods happily, instilling a sour feeling in John's stomach. _"Um…I'd rather not. Really."_

_"What's the matter, young master? Are you afraid?"_

"Well, _no_…but–" the three rookies sneak up behind their senior radical, shooting him _a furious stare_. _John freezes up, looking over his shoulder in a mode of fear!_ Looking in the trio's burning eyes, the field trainee becomes overwhelmed by the tense feeling in the air. _"Heh-heh. Um…why are you guy staring at me like that?"_

_The offended trio suddenly becomes very scary, scolding their elder with a fierce tone!_

_"Big Brother John, do you have a problem with us?" questions the glowing-eyed Strigoi._

_"Yeah, do you have a problem?" seconds the Twins._

"Um…well…I, uh…"

_"Answer the question!" demands the angry trio, freezing the disheartened senior with fear._

"Um…could you _not_ be so demanding? I'm in a bad mood, you know."

_"You WILL hang out with us!" demands the trio, shooting spooky glares at their senior._

Brother John concedes, holding up his hands in surrender "Okay, okay! Enough with the scary faces, already! I'll hang out with you. _Geez._"

Stephen has to agree with the notion, "_Hmph._ Well, that sounds cool to me. You four can explore the city, while the rest of us go meet up with the Rolling Stones. I think that's best for Father Hennigan, hanging out with a bunch of bouncy little pups."

At first glance, Father John looks more like _an annoyed elder brother_, allowing his younger siblings to have their way with him. They're roughing him up, and he seems to like it. This is _too_ cute… I should voice my opinion.

"John, I agree. You should go with them."

_"Huh? Not you too, Stu?" whines the embarrassed optic master._

"Come on, Big Brother", Brother Johnny gives his senior nuggies.

_"You should really…" begins Brother Joshua._

_"…Chill out and hang, man", finishes Brother Jonathan._

"Um…okay, I guess", smiles the optic master, beginning to enjoy himself.

Damien smiles at how lively the boys look. John hasn't smiled like that in a while – _an exultant beam, filled with consolation._ This is what John needs…people who can liven his mood.

____But, you've got to wonder… Will these four actually mesh well together, or will they ultimately fall apart?____

* * *

><p>"Ooh, look at this!" Brother Johnny's having a blast, admiring the interesting sights in the area. His friends follow him, adoring his energy. He's like a big kid; then again, that's how most Strigoi are. Look at him, he's even mimicking <em>a Japanese Beckoning Cat<em> he sees displayed in a curio shop window. "Look at me! I'm a lucky cat, _nya-nya-nya-nya-nya!_"

"_Heh-heh._ Will I get a few 'lucky pennies' if I _crack_ you open?" Brother Joshua rolls up his sleeve, becoming violent with his fellow rookie. "Come here, _lucky cat_. Time to add _'a few cents'_ to my coin collection."

"_Whoa_, don't get too carried away!" Brother Johnny runs away from his pursuer. "Jey, I was just _imitating_ one! Jimi, get your brother – _he's gone mad!_"

_"Wait up, I want to see if I can find a silver dollar!"_

**_"Get away from me! Murderer! Assassin! Psycho!"_**

_"Come, come now!" Brother Joshua tackles his comrade, placing him in a cloverleaf leg hold. Brother Johnny writhes in pain, suffering his comrade's brotherly abuse. "Gimmie a nickel! How about a quarter? Is there a dollar or two in there? Come on, answer me already!"_

_"Big Brother Joshua, spare my life! I need these legs to walk, you know!"_

_"No give", teases the rough twin; tightening his grip, making the Strigoi squeal._

**_"Yowch! Will somebody help me?" _**

Brother Jonathan and Father John are humored by the comical display of energy. To give the boys their playtime, Brother Jonathan brings up a little report he heard earlier.

"Oh, that's right. I _knew_ I had something to ask you."

"What is it, Jimi?" the senior rookie pays close attention to his junior.

_"Did you hear the news, about a group of Church loyalists in this area?"_

"Church loyalists?"

"Yeah, a faction called _The Beach Boys_", the resourceful twin makes usage of a special wristwatch that Father Andrew gave him; one that has the ability to transmit holographic images. Jonathan explains the memo being displayed. "These are their profiles. They don't have last names; they're _'hybrid bastard children'_ of the count, Valdo von Dracula. Their names are: _Brother Love, Brother Johnson, Brother Wilson, Sister Jardine, Brother Marks, Sister Fataar, and Brother Chaplin._ Their existence is one in the same; a Class B – Sound Existence: _Good Vibrations_. Father Andrew wants us to dispose of these guys. So, _that's_ the reason behind the others allowing us to roam freely for a while. _Hmph._ I grew suspicious of that, especially after Mother Kate authorized our leave."

"That makes sense", agrees Father John, as his comrade deactivates his wristwatch. The optic master brings up a good point. "Speaking of 'sense'… Those guys look _awfully_ familiar to me; the Beach Boys, that is. You say that they're the _count's_ kids, so that would mean…"

"Yeah, you've got the right idea", the conversing comrades observe their fellow rookies' behavior: _playfully tussling like two giddy puppy dogs._ The two informed radicals focus their attention on Brother Johnny. The resourceful twin gives his confession. _"The Beach Boys are Brother Curtis's elder siblings. Our targets are identical children, born to a vampire father and a werewolf mother."_

_"Did you just say…werewolf?"_

"Yeah…werewolf", the resourceful twin looks to his senior, giving him a few words of wisdom. "His elder siblings are _Moroi_ – _vampires fused with the genetics of a mortal werewolf._ Though they're _very_ _strong_, they can easily be killed; however, that _won't_ be easy. Furthermore, you _shouldn't_ tell Johnny about his relations to our target. It'd probably mess with his head."

_"Mess with his head?"_

"As you can probably already tell, Strigoi are _really_ _emotional_ vampires", observing how playful Brother Johnny is with his twin brother, Brother Jonathan paints a vivid picture for his senior rookie. "Look at him, Big Brother. He's a _sparkling_ image of vitality; _a strong influence to those around him._ Just like any other vampire, Brother Johnny's susceptible to his emotions, but _his_ responses are _heightened_ due to the kyonshī blood coursing through his veins. _Hopping Vampires_ don't feed off of blood; they feed off of _life energy_. The happier people are around them, the _stronger_ they become. If the mood's sour, they _too_ become sour. Get it?"

_"I get it…he's an extremely empathic vampire. It's his strength **and** his weakness."_

"Yeah, and that's why Josh and I try to keep him under control. Johnny's a _handful_ when he's unrestrained; freely roaming around, unattended. The whacks to the head help the cause – to keep him from causing a scene."

_Brother Johnny's existence is suddenly disturbed!_

_His fellow rookies feel the same thing – the presence of a strong territory!_

"What kind of energy is _that_?" Brother Johnny stands to his feet, feeling pumped to be in the midst of such supernatural energy. He pats his face with his hands, invigorated and excited. "_M-m-m…!_ _Amazing power_ – I want to see it!"

**_"Would you be serious for once, you pinhead!" scolds the Twins._**

_"Quiet, all of you!"_ the optic master's stern voice tranquilizes his juniors' behavior. Father John approaches his juniors, sporting a very serious ogle. "This isn't the time to be arguing. This energy's circulating from that building over there, in the distance."

The juniors notice a large mansion in the distance. It's a national landmark, _The B.D. Wilson Theater_ – one of Europe's legendary opera houses.

"_Wow!_ That's a fancy place, ain't it?" fascinates the Strigoi.

"For once, I can agree with you", approves Brother Jonathan with a smile.

"I'm not sure if you boys got the memo, but we've got a field assignment to take care of", briefs the senior rookie. Brother Jonathan nods, having already received it on his wristwatch. Brother Johnny's a bit confused, twiddling poking his index fingers together in a mode of insignificance. Father John smiles, understanding his junior's lack of professionalism. "Father Andrew authorized the search and seizure of a Church loyalist group called _The Beach Boys_. From I'm sensing, they're somewhere in _that_ opera house, hiding like a bunch of _'frightened Church mice'_."

"Despite that, we should be prepared for anything", preps Brother Joshua. "We don't know what kind of power these guys have. Let alone, the size of their territory… We could very well be _standing_ in it, right now."

_"Fancy place", gushes Brother Johnny._

"Everyone, let's go", leads Father John.

_"Yes, sir", follows his junior rookies._

_However, unbeknownst to our group of blossoming rookies…the enemy's currently watching from the highest window of the opera house._

_"Big Brother Love, is someone coming?"_

_"Yes, Little Sister Jardine. They're flocking to us, like a group of helpless puppies."_

_"Oh, happy day", delights the obscured femme Moroi. "What shall we do with them, big brother?"_

_"What else, little sister?", the leader of the Beach Boys licks his hungry fangs, craving the taste of the approaching party's life energy. "We drain them, just like all the others. Our song of death, **Canto di Morte**, will dispose of their filthy existences, one-by-one… And then, we will fill the hole in our stomachs, savoring their precious energy…sharing it with our fellow siblings."_

_The obscured femme Moroi stands from her fainting couch, delighted to hear such news, "Mmm, I can't wait to taste their beautiful vital spark! Big brother, we must have them – my tummy's begging to be filled!"_

_The leader Moroi sees something very intriguing, "Hoh…? We've an interesting development on our hands, little sister."_

_"What is it, big brother?"_

_"He's here, with them", delights the smiling leader._

_"Who's here, big brother?"_

_"Our wonderful baby brother…Johannes", the leader turns to his little sister, who stands obscured in the darkness of their shared bedroom. "Our only, only youngest brother! Little sister, we can finally make him one of us – Johannes can **finally** become one of the Beach Boys!"_

_The obscured femme Moroi cups her hands, delighted to hear such news, "Ah, this is wonderful. I would love nothing more than this – to have our baby brother with us, forever and ever."_

_The obscured leader Moroi extends his left hand to his younger sister, "So. Shall we go greet our adorable little brother, Jardine?"_

_"Yes, we shall", the obscured femme Moroi takes her elder brother's hand._

_____Brother Johnny doesn't realize it, but he's about to have a **very** unpleasant family reunion._____

* * *

><p>The B.D. Wilson Theater, a grand sight to see… The sound of <em>Marino Faliero<em> plays in the background, accommodating all visitors with a melodious tune.

"I don't like operas, but this sounds nice", delights Brother Johnny, as he begins examining the plush interior décor. He comes across a headless _Statue of Apollo_, which creeps him out. _"Eek! Isn't this thing supposed to have a head…? How eerie!"_

"Hmm…this opera brings back good memories", reminisces Father John.

_"What is it, Big Brother?"_

"You may not be interested, Brother Johnny…but, I was in attendance during the first showing of this _famous_ _tragedia lirica_. _March 12th, 1835_ – it was me and my first girlfriend, _Giulietta Barglioni_. _Ah, such a sweet memory._ I should've thanked _Gaetano Donizetti_ for his contribution to _the World of Opera_. Because of him, I received _'the kiss I'll never forget'_. _My lovely Giulietta, you memory will live on in my heart._"

_Father John blows a kiss, remembering his late lover's beautiful face._

"Were you _always_ a playboy, Big Brother?" snickers Brother Jonathan.

_"Can you blame me?" Father John begins to pose like a male fashion model, conceitedly flaunting his polished physique. "With looks like these, mischief is **bound** to happen. Forgive me if I boast, but I can't help it – trouble always seems to follow me, **begging** for my kiss. Sexy."_

"And now, _I'm_ begging for someone to shoot me – _execution style_", verbally strikes Brother Joshua, breaking his senior's mode of vanity. His fellow juniors snicker under their breath. Full of himself, the tough twin folds his arms like a boss man. "_Hmph._ Don't get cocky, Big Brother. Seniors aren't supposed to act like that; it's bad form, _and_ a bad influence on us. Sexy…_really now?_"

_"Must you **always** cut someone down?" snarls Father John, balling his fists at his junior in a fit of anger._

"It's my job – _to be brutally honest with my superiors_", the arrogant extremist shoots a photogenic grin, sporting his trademark machismo. He shoots a peace sign with his left hand. _"Heh-heh. I'm the # 1 Real Talk Master, Brother Joshua Fatu! Peace."_

**_"Who's being the cocky one here?"_**_ snaps the optic master, appalled by his junior's behavior._

_All of a sudden, the hall music is interrupted. The AP system activates, and the voice of a beautiful Romanian woman speaks. She sounds bubbly and outgoing; almost annoying._

"_Greetings, travellers!_ Welcome to the B.D. Wilson Theater, _a national treasure and home of the world's greatest stage performances!_ Please, leave your signatures in _'the sign-In booklet'_. Today, we're performing an open house opera: _Canto di Morte_ – the story of two lovers, separated by the aversions of their lineage; _a re-mastered version of the Shakespeare classic, Romeo and Juliet!_ All spectators, please, report to the theater room for the show. Do enjoy yourselves, and have a _lovely_ stay!"

_"Ooh, she sound pretty – I wanna meet her!"_ cheers the excited Strigoi, receiving a dual hammering to the cranium from his twin comrades. He passes out, suffering a mild concussion. _"Ouch…the pain…"_

_"Not so loud, dork", scolds the Twins._

"Enough with that, let's get going", leads Father John, walking past his rookies with stern body language.

"Okay", follows the Twins.

Brother Johnny stands to his feet, and follows his fellow juniors and his senior in silence. As they travel deeper into the opera house, the feeling of an active territory becomes stronger…and stronger…_and stronger_.

_"I don't like how this territory feels", Brother Johnny holds his arms, feeling goosebumps forming. "It feels like…death. I know I'm not even alive to begin with, but this is just too…uncomfortable."_

"I know what you mean", agrees Brother Joshua with a nod. "These Beach Boys are _a lot stronger_ than we thought; to have such a potent existence… It's disturbing."

"Keep your heads up, boys", motivates the stern senior. "We're bound to be promoted, getting rid of such a faction. They're probably _Anthropophagi_ – _cannibal nightwalkers who are constantly in search of prey._ They'll eat just about _anything_, _including their own flesh and blood relatives._"

"How do you know about vampires like that?" asks the curious Brother Jonathan.

_"I used to hunt them, before I became a member of the Church. The Anthropophagi terrorized my colony for years when I was a kid… So, when I got older, I used my optic blasts to burn them all to a cinder. They're still out there, but at least I cut their population down by half…all on my own."_

"_Wow!_ You're hardcore, Big Brother!" admires the excitable Strigoi.

_"You've got to be, fighting monsters like that. Because of my experience, I mastered seven forms of martial arts – Savate, Capoeira, Tai Chi boxing, Muy Thai, Rindōkan Karate, Taekwondo, and Modern Fencing. If I have to exercise my abilities against these 'Beach Boys', then so be it. I'll take them all down, one after the other."_

"Hey, don't be greedy – we want some of them, too", whines the Twins.

"Yes, yes – we want some, too", seconds Brother Johnny.

_"Hmph. We'll see if you're up to the test, boys. But, I want you…it's not like fighting ordinary vampires. They drain your life energy, using it to make them stronger. Always be on your guard, and don't slip up for a single second. If you do…it's bye-bye, so long. Understood?"_

_"Yes, sir!" salutes the noble juniors, with a right fist to their hearts._

The boys arrive to the theater room, which is opened to the public. The red carpet is rolled out, and the room appears to be full. The sound of adoring opera lovers lights the dimmed room.

"Let's go", leads the stern senior.

"Yes", follows his juniors.

The field trainees walk to the seventh row down, occupying seats 26 – 30. The people around them are dressed for the occasion, flaunting their best gowns and evening suits. Funny thing – it's 1:35 PM; not the time to be walking around in warm clothing, especially in the middle of such a warm season.

_"Stare…" meditates Brother Johnny, eyeing the suspicious spectators._

Brother Jonathan snatches his fellow rookie's left ear, in a scolding manner, "Behave, act natural and don't blow our cover. Understood?"

_"Yes, let go", cooperates the chastened Strigoi, being relieved of his moment of admonishment._

The lights begin to dim, and the audience respectfully applauds.

"It's starting, boys…stay sharp", preps the senior.

The stage curtain opens, the lights activate, and the scene of the beautiful _Villa Medici_ in Fiesole, Tuscany, Italy is seen. The starlet of the opera, _Lucrezia di Melena dei Medici_, is seen entering center stage…singing a song of her longing for the handsome_ Duke of Fiesole_.

_All of a sudden, Father John's superior optical senses see something vibrating from the starlet's oral cavity – a continuous pattern of frequency waves. Silently, and without warning, Father John activates his existence of vision: Gates of Perception. His juniors sense his territory's activation, turning their attention to their senior._

"She's using her existence", warns the senior, using an invisible optic barrier to shield the vocalist's melodic spell. However, the people around the area are beginning to fall into a deep sleep. The field trainees are stunned, having seen the influence their target's supernatural muscle has. _"Hypnotism. I should've known – Anthropophagi are known for their melodic voices, which has the ability to tranquilize their prey."_

"Thanks for the late warning", sighs the nervous Strigoi.

_"What's the matter, boys?" questions the vocalist, catching the trainees' attention. The beautiful Romanian starlet places her hands on her hips, and speaks arrogantly to the exposed party. "Hmph! Do you not like my singing, or is this barrier just for show?"_

The boys stand to their feet, realizing that the starlet is one of the Beach Boys.

The beautiful vocalist formally curtsies to her pursuers, greeting them with refined gesture.

_"Pleased to meet you", the beautiful Moroi stands properly, and cups her hands with delight. "My name is Sister Jardine – the world's most inspirational songstress. Allow me to welcome to our home, with open arms. Especially you…little brother Johannes."_

The maestro and five of the musicians abort their positions, relocating to their starlet's side… Brother Johnny begins to have vague memories of this image; visions that curse him with a mild headache. The Strigoi feels faint, falling into Brother Jonathan's arms.

"What's wrong, Johnny?" panics the aiding rookie, shaking his comrade to consciousness.

_"I…remember them…" a vision of a photograph his mother forbid him to see scrolls across his mind. Brother Johnny stands to his feet, remembering the image of his identical brothers and sisters. He becomes territorial and hostile, sporting a serious stare at the deadly septuplet. "…Eldest Brother Love, Second Oldest Johnston, Middle Child Jardine, Third Youngest Marks, Second Youngest Fataar, and Youngest Sibling Chaplin… These people…are my brothers and sisters. They're the people that my mother warned me about: the Savage Children – the Beach Boys, Commanders of the Good Vibrations!"_

"Ah, so your mother's told you about us?" delights Eldest Brother Love, stepping forward with a debonair strut. The maestro stops near the edge of the stage, places his hands behind his back and speaks proudly to his youngest brother. "Johannes, my dearest baby brother, we're so _very_ glad to see you. And to think – you've brought a snack with you. Have you come bearing _'culinary gifts'_, Baby Brother Johannes?"

Brother Johnny lowers his head, allowing the darkness of the theater room to foreshadow his profile. The maestro Moroi becomes worried, almost humored in a sense.

"What's wrong?" Eldest Brother Love extends his arms to his baby brother. "Does the love of your family not comfort you…make you feel at home? Come, Johannes. Let your _'Aniki'_ hold you. That _is_ what your _disgusting mother_ would ask you to address me as. _Right, Baby Brother?_"

**_"Shut the hell up!"_**_ the Strigoi's silver vampiric aura burns brightly, as his infuriated tone echoes throughout the opera house._

_The color of the Strigoi's aura becomes pitch black, which can only mean one thing: his father's blood is awakening! It's a power level off the charts – **the supernatural muscle of a SSS Class existence user!**_

_"Don't call me that, you…you freak!" the Strigoi's eyes burn vibrantly, exhibiting his level of offense. Brother Johnny's fellow field trainees are stunned by how frighteningly powerful he's become. Just a minute ago, Brother Johnny was a daft, over-energetic and spontaneous nightwalker. But now…he's the most powerful person in the room! "How dare you… How dare you talk about my mother like that, and insult my friends! Even if you are my siblings, **I won't have you disrespect my loved ones!**"_

The Beach Boys are stunned at how powerful the Strigoi's become… They have to shield the eyes, just to be able to see. _The draft circulating from the rookie's strong enough to rip the chaining of the curtains, causing them to fall! The septuplet looks up, noticing that they're about to be seriously injured! The Beach Boys leap backwards, successfully escaping an instantaneous death!_

_"W-what incredible power!" fascinates the horrified Sister Fataar._

_"He's just as strong as Papa!" seconds Brother Marks._

_"You won't escape…**YOU WON'T**…" Brother Johnny suddenly becomes faint, falling onto his knees in a loss of balance. His comrades come to his aid, realizing that he overdid it a bit. The fury that he felt melts away, and the outgoing Brother Johnny returns. He stands to his feet, scratches his head and begins acting as silly as usual. _"_Yowch!_ Talk about a killer headache! I thought I was going to lose it there …"

_Everyone comically collapses, reacting to how random the Strigoi's mood swings can be. Brother Johnny looks around, confused by everyone's behavior. The Strigoi begins to panic, wondering if he's done something wrong. He runs around the place, shaking everyone to make sure they're all right._

_"Eek! What did I do? Did I scare them to death? Kill them with my charms? Did they collapse from starvation? Where's a doctor? Paramedic! Somebody, help me…!"_

**_"We're just fine!"_**_ snaps everyone else, making the panicking Strigoi run and hide in fear for his life._

Father John scratches his head, realizing that he lost his cool. Behaving like his natural self, he speaks formally with his target.

"Forgive his excitement", the optic master grasps the septuplet's attention with his polite verse. The handsome nightwalker bows to the distinguished faction, showing his appreciation for the performing arts. "Greetings. My name is Father John Randall Hennigan – senior of this group of invaders. As a man who appreciates the sound of opera, I must make a comment."

"Voice your opinion, stranger", allows the maestro Moroi.

_"As a loyal spectator, I must say this…" Father Hennigan stands up straight, revealing a burning-eyed glare. The identical seven are disturbed by such a fierce ogle – the sight of it sends chills up their spines. "…I, a lover of the fine arts, must say this: You sick bastards bring shame and disgrace to this theater's good name! You killed everyone in here who wasn't protected by my barrier! As a member of the Rutherford Branch of the Infinity Alliance, I will not stand for such disgraceful endeavors!"_

"Wait, ojīchan!" rebukes the invigorated Strigoi, instilling a loss of confidence in his senior.

_"D-d-did he just call me…'grandpa'?"_

_"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" the bubbly hybrid hops in place with his arms stretched out, exhibiting his kyonshī roots. "This isn't right – you guys fighting my family like that! I must interfere!"_

Brother Johnny runs down to the bottom level, stands in front of the stage and looks up to his elevated siblings… Their loving eyes are warming to the Strigoi; however, he knows that they're evil. They're not to be trusted…and he must do something about it.

"Big Brother John, Brother Jonathan, Brother Joshua…this is my duty…", the three field trainees are stumped by the energetic Strigoi's actions. Brother Johnny points to his siblings with a strong right hand, declaring them his enemies with a smile. "…This is my duty, as a brother, to take you guys out! My fellow field trainees, fight with me if you wish, _but_…_I get most of the hits!_"

The Beach Boys are humored by their baby brother's passionate behavior. Their laughter doesn't bother the Strigoi; it only fuels him with the itch for a fight. Eldest Brother Love speaks for his fellow Beach Boys.

"Very interesting speech, Baby Brother", he applauds with his identical siblings. "Bravo! Encore, Baby Brother Johannes. You could win an Academy Award for your performance."

_"I told you, you bastard – Don't call me that", Brother Johnny's silver vampiric aura begins burning brightly, signifying his roused emotions. His siblings aren't moved by his level of power, but they feel that he's strong enough to put up a good fight. With a charming smile, the Strigoi makes a secondary declaration. "You don't deserve to call me 'Baby Brother'. Just because I passed out, doesn't mean I've forgotten the horrible things you've said about my loved ones. Now, I will show you 'a ghastly image of death'…with my existence of vision."_

"Hoh…? Existence of vision, you say?" Eldest Brother Love extends his arms to his baby brother with welcoming gesture. "Please, Johannes, do entertain us with your…_'impressive existence'_."

_"Okay…you asked for it!" the Strigoi places his hands in front of his face, shielding his vision. He parts his fingers, gazing upon his siblings with a shining silver stare. His comrades can feel his slight power increase, which is worthy of an SS Class user – not as strong as his full form, but still just as dangerous. Brother Johnny calls the name of his existence with passion. **"Show the truth! Man in the Mirror!"**_

Brother Johnny sways his hands to the side, releasing a shining silver territory from his strong frame. The room is suddenly overshadowed with a thick, watery metaphysical world… Everything in the area appears reflected _and_ refracted to the Strigoi's opponent – their bodies; their surroundings; the people around them; everything. The influence of Brother Johnny's existence is confusing, yet extremely dangerous.

_What the eye cannot comprehend, it cannot understand. That is the power of the Strigoi's existence – to confuse the opponent, to the point that they're unable to react._

**_"Look out below!"_**_ the sound of their baby brother's voice sounds from the air above._

_The cannibalistic seven look up, beholding a rain of unbreakable glass shards!_

_"Scatter!" commands the maestro Moroi._

_The Beach Boys successfully dodge their baby brother's attack, landing in a circle around the gracefully falling Strigoi. The glass shards brutally dig into the stage's glazed wooden floors, proving their indestructibility. Brother Johnny lightly glides to his feet, being carried safely to the stage floor by a bed of excited air. _

"_Heh-heh._ You guys are _way_ too slow", the Strigoi summons more glass shards into the pits of his fingers, flashing them off with fatal flare. "If you keep this up, you'll take all the fun out of _killing_ you. That's not very _cool_…_big brothers and sisters._"

"Well, we acknowledge your mettle", announces the beautiful vocalist Moroi. Sister Jardine cups her hands together, delighted to see her baby brother's supernatural strength. _"Ah, I can see so many of my sweet little brother – 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, oh the joy!_ Dear brothers and sister, we _must_ oblige his ferocity…"

_"…With a little of our own", finishes the maestro Moroi, exciting the vampiric auras of his fellow Beach Boys. Brother Johnny's impressed by the potency of his siblings' existence, more than he can ever be nervous. Brother John and the Twins are stunned by how powerful the septuplet's territory has become. "Right, my fellow Beach Boys? We shouldn't disappoint our baby brother. Come, my brothers and sisters. Let us celebrate our love…**with a battle to the death!**"_

_"Yes, Big Brother Love!" the Beach Boys' vampiric aura suddenly surrounds the entire opera house's parameters, trapping the field trainees in a 500 bm expansion area. Combined with Father John and Brother Johnny's existence, the power expansion reaches a precise measurement of 1398 bm. The Beach Boys fully activate their existence of sound. **"Tremble! Good Vibrations!"**_

_The territory suddenly becomes prismatic, proving the potency of their supernatural fusion. Brother John and the Twins take to the air, landing directly next to their fellow field rookie._

_The Twins join their lateral hands, raising their remote fists in front of their faces, **"United as one! Jagged Edge!"**_

The Twins' existence of wind activates, spreading a watery existence of air from their bodies. In the process, their bodies are covered with their _trademark metallic armor_, and their feet are decorated with their _super-durable metallic rollerblades_. Father John poises his hands in a diamond shape before his vision.

**_"Open their eyes! Gates of Perception!"_**_ the optic master fully activates his existence, spreading his territory from his strong frame with a swaying of his arms to his side. He realigns his hands into a diamond, declaring his loyalty to Brother Johnny's affairs. "We won't let you fight this battle alone. No matter what the issue, these guys are **far** too dangerous to battle en solo."_

_"Yeah", nods the Twins._

_The actions of his friends have gained the Strigoi's admiration and gratitude._

"Everyone…_thanks_", Brother Johnny turns his attention to his energized identical siblings. His hybrid blood boils with the itch for battle. _His empathic nature takes off at full speed!_ _"Alright! Big brothers, big sisters – prepare to get the crap beat out of you!"_

"We welcome your violence, Baby Brother", extends the understanding maestro Moroi. His warm voice suddenly becomes _extremely ferocious_; his actions and body language correspond. _"Now, Baby Brother Johannes, you and your miserable little friends…**will die!**"_

_"Hmph. Bring it on!" welcomes the headstrong mirror fighter._

_The first field mission of the trainees – the search and seizure of the Church loyalist faction, the Beach Boys… Having discovered the cannibalistic septuplets to be his elder siblings, Brother Johnny and his fellow field trainees are faced with a very powerful enemy; one that could very well claim their lives._

_Will the field trainees be successful with this life-threatening task? Or, will the dreaded Anthropophagi players receive their next meal?_

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Ending Theme 2 <em>– "Colors" by Utada Hikaru)<em>**_

* * *

><p><em><strong><em>(Up Next: Chapter 16 <em>– Family Reunion)<em>_**_


	17. Chapter 16: Family Reunion

**_BLOOD/Night_**

* * *

><p><em>The Mother Superior has arrived to her destination, having flown 4 hours to Florence, Italy to meet up with the Cardinal of the Church…<em>

Mother Wendy, dressed in her casual travelling gown, is escorted through the halls of _La Chiesa della Fede Lunari (The Church of the Lunar Faith)_ by a faithful brother of the convent. Behaving as professionally as ever, Mother Wendy remains in constant state of veneration.

"It's an honor to have you here, Mother Wendy", extends the young brother.

"Grazie, prete (Thank you, priest)", gratefully thanks the multilingual radical.

"Ah, so you know the language? Bene, Signora. (Good, Miss)"

"Why has the Cardinal requested to see me?"

"Something very important, Signora", the young brother leads the mother superior into the northern wing. From her past experiences, this isn't the right way to the Cardinal's office. "Forgive the change of route, Signora. This is new way to the Cardinal's office."

"A change of scenery?"

"Sí (Yes), his office was facing the south", explains the young brother. "The south has brought him 'bad luck', or so he believes. The Cardinal…he was always a very eccentric man. However, unlike the Count, he is very understanding; he gave my family a home outside of the city, hiring me as his courier."

"Niccolò's a loyalist, but he's a very kind soul. I, more than anyone else, am well aware of that. However…he's not to be trusted, young man. Lest you forget, he's a vampire."

The group arrives to their destination: the Cardinal's office in the northern wing. The young brother stops next to the door, turns to his follower and responds to her cautionary words.

"Do no worry about me, Signora. I may be a Gideonite follower, but I am not naïve."

"What's your name, younger brother?"

"Brother Ezio Barglioni", formally bows the young man, swaddled in his priestly robes.

"Barglioni, you say? One of my comrades once courted a woman with that maiden name."

"Yes, my Nonna (Grandmother) once told me of this. His name was…John Hennigan, was it not?"

"Sí, that's him all right", smiles the Mother Superior. "Your great-grandmother was a very beautiful woman. I wish you would've been able to meet her. Even in her old age, she was a star whose beauty never lost its twinkle. You remind me so much of her; your eyes _and_ your smile are _a_ _spitting_ _image_ of Giulietta."

"Grazie, Signora", bows the young brother. Brother Ezio stands straight, knocking on his superior's door twice. "Cardinal Niccolò, la Madre Superiora è arrivato (the Mother Superior has arrived)."

"_Entare, mi amica (Enter, my friend)", the young brother opens his superior's office door, allowing the Mother Superior to enter the office. Brother Ezio closes the door, excusing himself from the meeting. Cardinal Niccolò stands from his chair, approaching his visitor with open arms. "Ah, the lovely Mother Superior. E 'un piacere vedervi, Signora (It's a pleasure to see you, Miss)."_

"Grazie, Niccolò", the Mother Superior extends her right hand, allowing the Cardinal to formally hold it with his strong left hand.

"You are as beautiful as ever, Signora", the Cardinal kisses his visitor's hand, acknowledging her beauty. Niccolò places his free hand on Mother Wendy's back, guiding her to his visitor's chair. "Come, have a seat. We have many things to talk about."

"_As you wish, Niccolò."_

The Mother Superior has her chair pulled out for her by the Cardinal. Mother Wendy has seat, resting her feet after her long walk through the convent. Cardinal Niccolò has a seat in his office chair, resting his cupped hands on his desk.

"So, Madre Superiora, how are things at the Barcelonan Branch?"

"Just fine, thank you", smiles the beautiful abbess.

"Did you read the _'fine print'_ in my letter? About the proposition?"

"I was unable to translate it", apologizes the Mother Superior. "I'm a little rusty with my Italian. Please, do tell me what it said, Niccolò."

The obscured Cardinal presses the gemstone attached to the band on his left ring finger. The curtains are suddenly shut, and the room is darkened. The Mother Superior looks around the area, wondering what the Cardinal has in store for her… All of a sudden, a mechanism attached to the floor activates – the floor begins to lower, revealing an underground research facility. Mother Wendy is astounded, having never realized that the ecclesiast dabbled in the technological sciences.

"What is this place? A…laboratory?"

"Sí, I wished to show it to you", the floor is lowered directly to the laboratory's ground level. The Cardinal stands from his office chair, walks around his desk and gives the Mother Superior a helping right hand. "Vieni, _cara sorella_ (Come, _dearest elder sister_). Let your _fratellino (younger brother)_ show you something…_very special_."

"As you wish, little brother", the Mother Superior takes her brother's hand, and is guided deep into the laboratory chambers.

Their journey leads them to a human storage room, where hundreds and hundreds of test subjects are frozen in cryogenic suspension. The Mother Superior is appalled by such a sight.

"Niccolò, what is this…_monstrosity?_"

"Il futuro dell'umanità (The future of mankind)", declares the Cardinal, walking up to one of his frozen test subjects. He presses a button on the frozen human's suspension tube, allowing the temperatures to slowly increase. "These loyal Gideonites are a step for all humans; the fabled _Snow People_."

"Snow people? You mean…_Il Neve Pupazzetti (The Snow Puppets)_?"

"Vampires aren't able to resist supremely cold weather", explains the Cardinal, turning to his sister with a crafty smile. Mother Wendy is a bit disturbed by Cardinal Niccolò's behavior. "Il Pupazzetti are known to some as _'Yeti'_, _'Sasquatch'_, and _'Abominable Snowmen'_; creatures feared by the masses…as monsters. This is true, but they're far more…_gentle_ than one would think. They are merely normal people, who have become spiritually bound to the polar ice caps."

"Why have you done this to these people, little brother?"

"…Per aiutarti, cara sorella (…To help you, dearest elder sister)", Niccolò lowers his head, just a bit, feeling guilty for what he's done. The Mother Superior pays close attention to her younger brother's confession. "I am sorry for doing this, but my Gideonites felt betrayed by Il Conte (the Count). Valdo…he has become…_molto incontrollati (very uncontrollable)_. In more ways than one, his support system…is failing him. Soon, Conte Valdo will have _no one_ at his side. This will surely lead to chaos, for all of us; vampire; human; _everyone_."

The Cardinal sheds a tear, looking up to the awakening femme Pupazzi. The Mother Superior realizes how sincere her little brother is. The young girl looks down to her superior, seeing the love in his eyes.

"This bambina (little girl) – her parents were _killed_ by the Beach Boys."

"_The faction being hunted by Father John's group?" fascinates the Mother Superior._

"Sí, the little fazione lealiste (loyalist faction) from New Halen. They've taken the B.D. Wilson Theater as their hideout, continuously preying upon innocent spectators. The people of New Halen are eccentric, peculiar umani (humans). Their kind is an _'easy catch'_ for Anthropophagi predators."

"Is _that_ why you've done this?"

"I merely responded to the people", the Cardinal throws his hands up, claiming innocence. The Mother Superior smiles, slightly understanding her younger brother's impulsive nature. Niccolò places his gentle left hand on his sister's right shoulder. "Trust me, Wendelina. Tuo fratellino (Your little brother) knows what he's doing. I have not left them this way; they come with transmutation ability. Il Pupazzetti are capable of returning to their normal selves. It is not a permanent thing. I made sure of that."

Mother Wendy looks to the young girl, who has fully awakened from cryogenic suspension. The cute little Italian teen smiles at the Mother Superior, waving to her with youthful expression.

"She's so young…to be filled with such _anguish_", Mother Wendy balls her fists, angered by what's happening around her. "The Count's a _horrible_ creature. I'm still _iffy_ about your research, but you can only do what you can for your people. It's better that you help them, instead of leading them to oblivion. If that way is to make them into super soldiers…then…there's _nothing_ I can do to stop you."

The Cardinal's loving smile becomes wicked and cruel. The Mother Superior notices this change; her suspicions about her brother's actions increase.

"Cara sorella, this will be my way to finally rid us of Il Conte", declares the cryobiologist with a psychotic leer. "For ages, I have developed a sour feeling in my stomach, thinking about how Il Conte has corrupted our cause. The Church's original motives…weren't tainted with the blood of the innocent."

"I'm well aware of that. Things 'changed' when the Count rose to power. The Church was a sanctuary for innocents – a refuge for the spiritually drained and the financially unstable. It's been that way since the 1100s: people either dying in resistance to the Church's cause, or slowly being used to dominate the world."

"Wendelina, I beg of you…" the Cardinal turns to his sister, showing warmer expression. The Mother Superior is surprised by her younger brother's mood swings – a hereditary trait of immortals. Niccolò extends his arms to his elder sister. "…Cara sorella, please. _Aiutami uccidere Conte Valdo! (Help me kill Count Valdo!)_"

Mother Wendy is shocked by the intensity of such a demand! The Cardinal, Niccolò Giuliani, has declared his betrayal to the Church… More than anything, he wants to kill the Count, Valdo von Dracula.

What will Mother Wendy's choice be?

Will she actually lend a hand to such a dangerous cause? Something that could mean the end of her life? And, what about the Cardinal's Pupazzetti? What power do these cryogenically enhanced super humans possess?

_The epic saga continues…_

* * *

><p><em><strong>(<strong><em>Opening Theme 2 – "Chikyuugi" by Matsuzawa Yumi)<em>****_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 16 – <strong>**Family Reunion**_

* * *

><p>"Ah, what a lovely breeze!" my boy stands on the edge of <em>the Edward L.V. Halen Outlook<em>, enjoying the crisp afternoon wind. New Halen City is also known as _the City of Wind_ – a name derived from the fresh breeze that trails across the region. A hint of rosemary is in the air. Damien enjoys the sweet, refreshing scent of Mother Nature's floral essence. "_Mmm._ What a _wonderful_ fragrance. I wish Stuart were here, but he's with the others…_talking with the Rolling Stones_."

For the past week, especially after _the Hospital Incident_, Damien's been…_thinking_. Thinking about our relationship: the misadventures; the repercussions ; the heartache. "_Where has it gotten him"_ – he wonders, questioning the results of our journey.

_He's been exposed to a world of horrors and misfortune._

_He's seen death, suffering and pain…more than once._

_Some of the people he's looked up to…have turned on him; betraying him for a genocidal cause._

_His job has been placed on hold, and he's currently in the custody of a radical organization._

_His life is in **constant** jeopardy._

The transpired events have buried a hole of trepidation in Damien's heart. His spirit has been hardened; covered by a thick, war-woven shell of alertness. Everywhere he turns, it's _possible_ that the enemy could be watching him…following his _every_ move. However, the feeling isn't as _"psychologically damaging"_ as one would think… _Good things_ have also developed from his misadventures; the pros that have somehow _outweighed_ the cons. When he thinks about the _"blessings"_ he's received, the _"curses"_ seem feeble and insignificant.

_He's discovered his Crusnik lineage._

_He's engaged to be married, to the man of his dreams._

_He's been reunited with his great-uncle, of whom he hasn't seen in years; at least to his knowledge._

_He's gained an irreplaceable set of friends._

_He's embarked on the greatest journey in history. No historian, no globetrotter, and no archeologist could ever comprehend it – An experience unlike any other, and he wouldn't trade it for the world._

The "pros" _outweigh_ the "cons". Even though he has lost _so_ much, he has gained something so much more _extraordinary_ in the process… _Life_ – a _new_ life, with wonderful people to share it with. The thought brings a tear to his right eye, which he allows to stroll down his beautiful profile.

"I'm luckier than I think", his tear drips from his chin, tainting the outlook's stone-crafted railing. His flowing locks obscure his weeping eyes, but his smile is still vivid enough for one to see. Damien begins contemplating the events happening around him. "_Everything_ I've been taught, everything that I _claim_ to know…_it all exploded in my face_. A few months ago, I thought that vampires were mere campfire _myth_. Now, after seeing everything, and finding out that I'm…_a Crusnik_…I…I don't know _how_ to explain it. I'm…_happy_, and I don't understand _why_. I should feel _miserable_; _suicidal_; _depressed_, _down_, _angry_, _furious_, _pissed off_. I should feel…_not_ like I feel right now. "

The wind gusts roughly for a second, brushing against Damien's buxom frame. His long locks trails in the wind, like ribbons fluttering through an autumn sky. A tearful smile is painted on his gentle face.

"Stuart, I love you so much…" my boy looks at his engagement ring, mentally reliving the night of my proposal. Damien stands up straight, joins his hands into a gentle ball, and places them to his heart. "…Just his touch sends chills down my spine; a tickle of true love…_that I just can't describe_. No man has ever made me feel…so beautiful. _So wanted_. _So loved…_"

_"Hmm. Such poetic verse…that's quite the attractive quality, my friend", the sound of what seems to be 'my voice' sends a chill down Damien's spine. He turns around to see… Guess who? "I say. Are you Alexander's great-nephew? You look just like him, my little sweet."_

"Stuart…is that…_you?_" my boy isn't looking at me. He's looking at _Great-grandfather Frederic_ _– my corrupted ancestor, whom looks like my identical twin, only dressed in the commemorative attire of the early English Renaissance_. His hair is _much_ longer, and curlier than mine…_and his eyes are a piercing shade of honey gold_. Damien approaches my great-grandfather, believing he's staring at _me_. "Stuart, why are you dressed like that? Are you…_staring in a play or something?_"

My great-grandfather looks down at his outdated clothes, "Oh? You don't like it? It was the style back in my day; the townswomen seemed to like it _very_ much."

"Stuart, why are you talking like that? You're behaving like an old man."

My fiancé's laughter makes the old man smile. Damien walks up to my great-grandfather, clings onto his right arm and looks into his handsome eyes.

"Daddy, you shouldn't be walking around, looking like that. People will think you're weird, you know."

"Do _you_ think I'm weird, young man?" my grand-father pets my fiancé on his head.

"Young man? Stuart, you're _31_; I'm _26_. We're _both_ young men."

"You misunderstand, my friend", laughs the old protagonist, striking my fiancé's confusion. Grandpa Frederic turns to my boy, gently holds his arms, kneels down and speaks lovingly to him. "Forgive me, young man… But, I'm _not_ Stuart. I'm _related_ to him, but I'm not him."

"What are you saying?"

"Damien, it's me – Lord Frederic", my fiancé's heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest. Damien jumps out of my great-grandfather's grasp, remembering that Lord Frederic…_isn't quite himself_. Grandpa Frederic stands to his feet, extending his arms to his future grandson. "Does something trouble you, boy? You need not fear me. I _am_ your 'future kin', from what I've been told."

"How do you know about me, when you've never even met me until today?"

"Word spreads _rapidly_ in the Church", smiles the old man, approaching my boy with open arms. Damien becomes antsy. "Come, future kin. Let us become…_a family_."

The legendary protagonist's eyes become fiery, signaling an aroused bloodlust. My great-grandfather's mentality has been altered by the King's existence, _Dark Side Moon_. Everything about him has been corrupted: mind, body, soul, impulse, desire, and _even_ self-control. Lord Frederic's a monster; not because he's a vampire, but because…_he's without a heart_.

"Stay away from me!" demands my boy, biologically summoning his trademark scythe of crimson matter into his right hand. Grandpa Frederic halts, placing his hands to his side. Damien becomes serious. "I can smell evil _all_ over you, _from head to toe_. You may be Stuart's ancestor, but your heart… _You don't have one, do you?_"

"Such is the King's _curse_, my little sweet. _Dark Side Moon_, an existence of darkness, robs a person of their goodness…_filling that void with malice and discord_. I may want to hold you, accepting you into the family; however, at the same time…"

The Dietrich steps forward with his right foot, making my boy aim the tang of his scythe at his elder. Lord Frederic's fingernails transmute, changing into a set of vicious claws.

"…At the same time…" Grandpa Frederic maliciously holds right hand in front of his face, hallucinating the image of blood dripping from his nails. "…Damien, I want to cover these hands…_with your blood!_"

My grandpa steps forward, at a speed that Damien's unable to follow with his level of perception! Or so it would appear… Grandpa Frederic actually moved so quickly, that it appeared as if he faded into a blur of wind. The act has psyched Damien out, leaving him in a mentally nerved state.

_("Huh? Where did he go…?")_

_"Are you spacing out, young man?" the sound of my great-grandfather's voice sounds from behind him. Damien turns around to a throttling right hand to his throat! Grandpa Frederic lifts my fiancé into the air, as if he were nothing more than a life-sized ragdoll. The young Crusnik struggles to break free of the corrupted vampire's cold grasp. "Heh-heh. What's wrong, boy? I though Crusniks were much stronger than this."_

_"WE ARE!" my boy lifts the sickle of his staffed weapon upward, severing my ancestor's right off in half!_

Damien lands on his feet, pulls my ancestor's arm off of his throat with his left hand, and tosses it to the ground! Grandpa Frederic steps back, allowing his lifeblood to flow from his amputated limb… Instead of screaming in pain…_Grandpa Frederic begins to laugh, hysterically._ My fiancé takes a step back, wondering why the age-old nightwalker's behaving so…_bizarrely; as if he were enjoying the pain_.

"_Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!_ Impressive, to say the least", my great-grandfather holds his amputated arm outward, allowing his cells to continuously multiply. The arm that was lost…_fully regenerates itself_. Damien's eyes widen with fear, _realizing that he's not dealing with any ordinary vampire_. Grandpa Frederic looks at his torn sleeve, amused. "Heh-heh. You owe me a new shirt. Perhaps I'll take your offer, to get me a new set of clothes."

_"You're arm! How did you…?"_

"It's one of the advantages about being a Dietrich: _the power of regeneration_", the impulsive servant retreats his claws, walking past my fiancé with _the old Von Alucard swagger_. Damien turns around, beholding how laidback the old man's behaving. "Come along, Damien. We should finish this before the King interferes."

"So, you mean to tell me…_that you weren't being serious?_"

"Of course not, my little sweet", Grandpa Frederic comes to a halt, looks over his right shoulder and explains his reckless behavior. "You see, Damien, vampires are much more…_straightforward_ than humans. I was merely testing you, to see if you're worthy of being my grandson's mate."

From the look on Damien's face, he's not too pleased with the old man's methods… And, as always, he plays right along with the event. With his own little touch of "correction", of course.

"Well, if that's the case…" smiles my boy,_ before thrashing my ancestor on his cranium with the flat end of his scythe's sickle!_ Grandpa Frederic's knocked into a mild concussion! Damien retreats his scythe back into his bloodstream, stepping over my great-grandfather's motionless body. "…That's _my_ test – _to see if you have a good head on your shoulders_. You passed with flying colors,_ ya crazy old kook._"

"Fair is fair, I guess", my great-grandfather stands to his feet, brushing the dirt from his clothes.

He turns around, looking at how…_entrancing my fiancé appears_. Grandpa Frederic suddenly hallucinates – he can see his late wife, Lady Maribel, walking away with her parasol in hand. A smile decorates the old man's face.

_("I see. So, could he be…?")_

"Well, are you coming or not?" my fiancé's stern voice awakens my ancestor from his fantasies. He notices that Damien's facing him with a warm smile, with his hands cupped behind his back. "Uh-huh. Who's the one spacing out _now_, old man?"

"Old man, you say? That deserves a good _spanking_ in my eyes."

"You wouldn't dare", all of a sudden, it happens again. Damien's eyes are unable to follow Grandpa Frederic's movements, and he suffers a good whacking to the arse because of it. My fiancé holds onto his hind parts in a pain. "_Ouch!_ What the hell…?"

"Naughty boys will get a _right-good_ lashing, remember that", Damien turns around in a fit of anger, only to be embraced by my ancestor. My boy's instantly plummeted into a pool of confusion. He looks up into Grandpa's warm, honey-colored eyes, gazing into his fatherly smile. "Damien, descendant of the Crusnik lord, I welcome you into my family. Do take care of my grandson, little one. If he's anything like me, he _needs_ a person like you in his life. Most Von Alucard men do."

_"Um…thank you, sir."_

"You're welcome, my little sweet…_now_…" Grandpa Frederic shows Damien his torn sleeve, making my fiancé feel _nervously_ guilty. "…About those new set of clothes. _When_ are you getting them for me?"

"Um…I, uh…well…"

"Being indecisive, are we?" Grandpa Frederic picks Damien up and puts him over his right shoulder.

_"Whoa! Hey, put me down!" fights my fiancé._

"You're not tearing an old man's threads and getting away with it. That's bad form, young man."

_"You dirty old man!" my Grandpa carries Damien into the city, allowing him to kick and scream as much as he wants. "Put me down, this instant! I don't care if you're Stuart's grandpa, you put me down NOW!"_

"No can do, young man."

_"Lord Frederic, unhand me right now!"_

"Not listening, now hush", my Grandpa spanks Damien on his buns with his free left hand, silencing the boy's furious complaining. "Young people, these days. Always complaining, never producing – unless its casual sex, of course. Isn't that right, Master Damien?"

_"I hate you!"_

"Yes, I love you, too", laughs the impulsive old man.

* * *

><p>"Phew, that's one <em>hell<em> of a territory!" Grandpa Christopher's arrived to the New Halen City Limits, beholding the prismatic spiritual dome surrounding the B.D. Wilson Theater. The suave old timer tips his big, black hat to get a better view of the impressive territory. "_Mm-mm-mm_. Those boys done messed around and caused some trouble. Leave it to them rookies to make a scene… Looks like I better put the old existence to good use, or things won't be pretty in the end. It's a good thing humans can't see that. Otherwise, the media would _shit_ their pants, trying to get a scoop."

_"Are we talking to ourselves now, Christopher von Alucard?"_

"Huh?" my Grandfather turns around to see a familiar sight; one that sends a wave of surprise through his old bones. The ageless dhampir becomes defensive, standing battle-ready…_against the King himself_. "_Henry Tudor of Aldington, the King of Rutherford…_ I should've recognized your _foul stench_. Guess I'm getting old, after all."

"We're _all_ up in age, my friend", the King departs from his limousine, with his chauffer standing behind the opened car door. King Henry approaches the defensive half-breed with debonair saunter. "Your father's somewhere in the city, tending to his impulses. I begged him to come with me, but he _desperately_ wanted to meet his great-grandson… Some father, eh? Passing over his _only_ _begotten_ _son_. I must say, that's rather _rude_ of him."

"I don't wanna meet up with my old man, not in his current condition. Besides, it's best that he meets Sunny Boy without me. I'm busy at the moment."

"_Sunny Boy?_ Is that your little pet name for the fledgling?"

_"What's it to you, jack off?"_

"Nothing much, just something I find to be…rather _cute_ of you", the King arrives , standing face-to-face with my Grandfather. Grandpa Christopher retains his composure. The King beams a serpentine leer. "It's funny – we're bitter enemies on _and_ off the screen. Fate's such a _funny_ little lady, isn't she?"

_"Yeah. You can say that."_

"Oh, now what's with that sour face?" my Grandpa's becoming annoyed by the King's constant, sarcastic formalities. King Henry notices the large territory in the distance, and is amazed by it. "_Ah, I see._ So, _this_ is why you're _'too busy'_ to see your father? What a _miserable_ excuse of a family you are. You _'Von Alucard men'_ are _all_ the same; _selfishly ignoring the feelings of your loved ones_. I bet, if I came to your abode…you'd offer me a glass of water, _and stuff a popper in it to knock me out_."

_"No, that's just underhanded. Not my style, old man – too cold-blooded for my taste. Unless you piss me off, then I'll stick capsulated asinine in your drink."_

"_Hmph._ Your father's just as irritating as you are", the King walks past his enemy with confident strut. He suddenly develops an idea; a crafty one that's bound to cause some trouble. "Forgive my early dismissal, Christopher. I've a few 'children' to save."

_"What are you planning, old timer?"_

"I plan to _save_ them – the Savage Children, that is", the King's proclamation turns my Grandfather around in a mode of shock. King Henry looks over his right shoulder with a burning-eyed stare. "I will save them…_by killing your rookies with my bare hands!_"

_"You wouldn't dare!"_

_"Watch me, you half-bred abomination!" the King takes to the skies upon a trail of wind, jetting towards the opera house in the distance._

_"Come back here!" Grandpa Christopher leaps into flight, chasing after the fleeing monarch. Their aerial race to the B.D. Wilson Theater kicks off at precisely 75 MPH! "Henry, don't you lay a finger on those puppies! If you do, I swear it – Rutherford's going to need a new king!"_

_"Words mean nothing in this situation, Christopher! Come on, half-breed…or is your human side slowing you down a bit? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha…ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!"_

_"Ain't a damn thing funny! **Sticky Fingers!**" my Grandpa summons his mysterious existence of empathy, causing Sticky Finger's metallic hands to emerge from rifts in the atmosphere. "If I can't catch you, then my existence will! **Destroy! Great Balls of Fire!**"_

Sticky Finger's hands materialize, becoming a ferocious array of silver flames. _The Great Balls of Fire technique storms forth, like a relentless swarm of wasps!_ The King can sense the oncoming long-range volley; in reaction, he strafes to his left using his mastery of _"flash movement"_.

"Useless! Your _'fireballs'_ won't stop me, abomination", declares the King, as the Great Balls of Fire technique swarms past him. He giggles arrogantly…_however_, a dangerous development ceases his contemptuous laughter. _"What? They're…coming back?"_

_Grandpa's Great Balls of Fire technique has hooked leftward, automatically returning to its initial target like homing missiles! _King Henry blitzes a second time to his right, varying his evasive patterns. The monarch comes to a halt. The King turns around to face his enemy, using his aerial mobility. Grandpa Christopher also comes to a halt; his _Great Balls of Fire technique_ hovering at his side, like overindulged spirits.

"_Hmph._ It appears as if I'll have to dispose of you, _before_ saving the Children", the King's ebony-colored vampiric aura begins to excite. My Grandfather remains calm, not sporting any loss of composure. "Abomination, you will learn your place in this world…_today, by my hand!_"

"Yap-yap-yap, and yap some more", snickers the suave old timer, adjusting his black hat by its brim.

"You _dare_ to mock me? You…_impetuous old fool!_ _Do you not know who you're dealing with?_"

My Grandfather, cool and collective, answers the King's furious question with _scornful_ verse.

"A loudmouthed, rich, spoiled _pansy_. Yep, that pretty much sums you up…_to a tee_."

_"You–! I shall your body left lifeless, Christopher von Alucard!"_ the King roars, as his vampiric aura becomes dangerously animated. The draft circulating from his spiritual energy causes the clouds to separate, and the air to become violent! Grandpa Christopher retains his composure, still…making the King venomously snicker. "You should've _ran_ to your father's side, boy. _There's no escape, now…_ **_Pitch black! Dark Side Moon!_**"

_The activation of the King's territory casts a thick, pitch black cloud of dark energy from his empowered frame!_ The _1100 bm_ aerial expansion area becomes like the blackest night: _no light; no sound; nothing can be seen._ Grandpa Christopher looks around him, wondering what the nature of this existence could be.

_("Total nothingness…there's only…")_

"Nothing can be seen, nothing can be comprehended…" the King's voice oscillates from the darkness, from every direction. His image appears multiplied sevenfold, in a confining circle around the poised half-breed. Henry aims his right hand forward, summoning a sphere of ionized lunar light in his extended palm. "…Nothing can be felt…_nothing at all_. The mind. _The minds of all living creatures…are my greatest treasure._ Christopher von Alucard, I shall have you join your father…_in eternal misery…_"

_My Grandpa's Great Balls of Fire are beginning to thicken, becoming a shell of silver flames upon his skin. King Henry's shocked by such a display of courage – to ignite one's self with the power of their existence. _

_"What are you doing…? Are you…trying to kill yourself…?"_

"Looks like it, but no", Grandpa Christopher's body begins to fade away in a breeze of silver flames. "I told you before, old man – _I've got some business to take care of._ I don't have the time to waste with you, but we'll meet again…_sooner_ than you think. _Adios, pansy boy!_"

_"Wait! Don't you run away from me…!"_ regardless of his furious petition, my Grandfather makes his escape. King Henry deactivates his existence, sporting a tickled glare... He shakes his head, humored by his opponent's self-defensive methods. "The younger generation… No guidance, no backbone…_all_ talk. It was only expected of such an _abominable_ half-breed. _Now then…_"

The King turns around, using his aerial momentum. He gazes at the prismatic territory in the distance. His mind's _still_ made up – _he wants to go assist the Savage Children_,_ the Beach Boys_. King Henry takes off towards the B.D. Wilson Theater, ready for a second encounter with Grandpa Christopher… Thinking of dhampir's actions, the King begins to understand _why_ his opponent precipitously dismissed himself.

_("He wants me to meet him there – at the Theater. He fled to lure me to a larger crowd. Cowardly, yet rather smart of you, Christopher. Still...what's that abomination planning with all of this?")_

* * *

><p><em>Meanwhile, the battle at the B.D. Wilson Theater has taken a lethal turn…<em>

"Beach Boys, Formation Omega: **_Sonic Boom!_**" commands the maestro Moroi, rousing the cooperation of his fellow Anthropophagi. The cannibalistic seven begins singing _Canto di Morte_ as a group, casting supersonic shockwaves from their oscillating voices. The violent sound waves travel forth, emitting the sound of a chaotic explosion. _"All of you, perish in the melody of our song of death!"_

"Don't think so! **_Change the Way!_**" Brother Johnny shields in comrades, mentally forming a protective barrier of glass around his party. The Sonic Boom technique, just like any form of sound energy, bounces off of the Strigoi's solid glass wall. The energetic nightwalker questions his senior. "Big Brother, what should we do next? These wound waves – _they're making my arms…tire out._"

Father John suddenly gets an idea, "I've got it. Brother Johnny, keep the barrier up for a split second. I'm going to prepare an Optic Hurricane blast. Adored Twins, race around them and disturb their sound energy with a strong surge of wind."

_"But, want that…?" panics the Twins._

"I know, it'll cause a larger sound explosion. However, it'll be enough to take them out in one blow. Guys, you've got to trust me…_please._"

"I trust you, Big Brother!" cheers the spunky hybrid, sustaining the strain of his elder sibling's sound waves. Brother Johnny's comrades are inspired by his strong sense of loyalty. "I didn't start this fight, doubting the abilities of my friends. If Big Brother John thinks this is the right thing to do, then… Then, I'm right behind you! Okāsan (Mother)…always told me to stand by the ones I care about. So, no matter what – _Wareware wa eien ni kyōdai...da! (We're brother…forever!)_"

Brother Johnny's beginning to lose his leg strength… However, he refuses to give up – he will endure the pressure inducing muscle of the Beach Boys' _Sonic Boom technique_. For the sake of his _"brothers"_, he will fight.

"We've got you", the Twins help their comrade retain his stance, giving him some back support. Brother Jonathan and Brother Joshua prep their senior for their formulated battle tactic. "Big Brother, we're ready!"

Big Brother Love rouses his fellow Morois' blood with vigorous verse, "_Sing_, my brothers and sisters! Sing louder and _louder_! _Let them hear your voices, vividly!_"

_"Yes, Big Brother!" the Beach Boys sound waves change drastically, dynamically rising in pitch._

Brother John realizes that now is the time to act.

_"Brothers, now!" commands the senior._

_"Okay!" answers the juniors._

The Twins' rollerblades begin vigorously rotating, like the accelerating wheels of a racecar after the checkered flag lowers. Father John leaps forward; his eyes emitting crimson ionic plasma! The agile nightwalker lands directly in front of his juniors, as Brother Johnny deactivates his _Change the Way barrier_.

**_"Alright! Optic Hurricane!"_**_ Father John unleashes a blitz of optical ionic lasers, sending them forth as a massive crimson wave of plasma energy! He sends the Twins forward. "Now, Twins –proceed as planned!"_

_"Got it!" the Adored Twins separate – Jonathan skating right, Joshua skating left!_

The identical twins leap forward, flip and place their skates on the theater room walls; _their epic momentum causes them to skate up the walls with little effort._ Brother Wilson and Sister Marks attempt to stop them by singing in their direction; however, the Adored Twins' speed is much too great for them to land a clean hit. The foundation of the Theater suffers in the process!

"Impossible! Such speed…" fascinates the alarmed Brother Marks.

"We can't hit them, they're too fast for us!" seconds Brother Wilson.

"It's not that we're too fast…" confidently begins Brother Jonathan.

"…You're just too _slow_!" arrogantly begins Brother Joshua.

_"Damn you!" roars Brother Chaplin, sending supersonic waves from his enraged voice._

_"How dare you disrespect us in our home!" Sister Fataar joins her brother._

The Adored Twins leaps from the walls, escaping the angered Morois' lethal melody! The cannibalistic seven witness the incredible, daredevil abilities of _"the world's strongest extremists"_. Brother Jonathan holds out his right hand; Brother Joshua holds out his left hand – they successfully join their lateral hands, aiming their remote palms downward.

**_"Jagged Edge: Heartbreak Spiral!"_**_ the boys blast a powerful tornado from their remote palms._

_"Perfect!" smiles Father John, as the raining storm crashes into the sound waves oscillating from the Beach Boy's Canto di Morte! The Twins' Jagged Edge: Heartbreak Spiral technique causes a massive sonic boom, triggering a colossal condensation of the water vapor in the air. This close-range sound disruption disturbs the vocal and audial muscles of the Children! The Twins skate across airstreams to escape the impact, landing safely next to their fellow rookies. Their senior congratulates them. "Good job, boys. That was some fancy footwork out there… Now, to see if it worked."_

The sonic boom's thick condensation of water vapor thins, revealing the physical well-being of the tyrannical Anthropophagi. Father John smiles assertively, having confidence in his strategy. Brother Love laughs, but he notices that his throat…feels raw. It hurts to speak, as if he's suffering a serious case of _strep throat_.

_"What…have you…!" chokes the maestro Moroi, holding his throat in pain._

"We've brought an end to your _'star-studded singing career'_, _permanently_", the optic master's foreboding verse strikes the Savage Children with fear. Father John explains his strategy. "Your strong point is your lethal singing voices, which is spammed vigorously in the form of supersonic waves – _Mistake # 1_. You became angrier and angrier, heightening the level of your voices to destructive proportions – _Mistake # 2_. So, the only way to 'shut you up' is to take that away from you. By applying the _heat_ of my Optic Hurricane to the cold airstreams of the Twin's Heartbreak Spiral, we created _an elemental fusion_ – _a massive condensation of steam that **dried** your vocal cords to the point of defection_. In other words, your mistakes…_became our victory_. _This little battle of ours was over before it even began._"

_"This…can't be…" chokes the lead vocalist Moroi, holding her throat in pain._

_"You…won't get…" seconds Sister Fataar._

_"…Away…with this…" thirds Brother Wilson._

"We already have", Brother Johnny steps forward, folding his arms with a cocky smile. He holds out his hands, flashing a sparkling set of seven indestructible glass handcuffs. "Hee-hee! Big brothers, big sisters, you're all under arrest for premeditated violence, murder, destruction of public property, D.T.P., and…well, because I say you are! So there."

"With this done – _mission complete_", announces Father John, as the Strigoi begins cuffing his older siblings. The sound of whistling comes from the theater room door – _a melodious tooting of Johnny Cash's 'God's Gonna Cut You Down'._ The sound of walking shoes lights the air as well, causing the rookies to look towards the opened doorway. Father John smiles at whom he sees approaching. "Well, if it isn't Father Christopher."

My Grandfather has arrived, having outraced and outsmarted the King. Grandpa approaches the arrest scene, strutting like an old cowboy.

"Howdy-howdy, boys", greets the suave old timer, tipping his hat to his comrades. Grandpa Christopher approaches the detained septuplets, placing his hat back on his head. "Well, well, well… Lookie at what we've got here: _the Count's murderous little bastards, the Beach Boys._"

_"Curse…you…" chokes the maestro Moroi._

"_Shut up, Love", sternly commands the suave dhampir, triggering fear in the defenseless septuplets._ Grandpa Christopher extends a brutal warning. "I'm not your dad, so I'm liable to _bitch whip_ your sorry ass if I have to. Don't push my buttons, and I won't sick Sticky Fingers on ya. _Understood?_"

The Savage Children are silenced. Father John questions his superior.

"Father Christopher, why are you here? Did Mother Wendy send you?"

_"Yep. Gotta mission: to protect the Strigoi."_

"Huh? Protect _me?_" questions the confused glass warrior, pointing to himself.

_"That's right, cowboy. If you've met these little rascals, I'm pretty sure you know **why** I'm protecting you."_

"_Really?_ Um…_well_…" the Strigoi thinks for 20 seconds, trying to piece together the events of what's just happened… The idea comes to his mind, but then it leaves. Brother Johnny gives up. "…Nope. Can't figure out why you're here, Christopher-shinpu _(Father Christopher)_."

_His fellow field trainees are highly embarrassed, "Geez. What a dimwit."_

My Grandpa approaches the clueless Strigoi, striking the attention of his rookie comrades. The Savage Children lower their heads, feeling guilty for not be able to answer their brother's misperceptions.

"Son, the answer's simple", Grandpa Christopher places his right hand on the confused Strigoi's corresponding shoulder. Brother Johnny lowers his head, suddenly getting an idea of what's going on. Grandpa realizes that the rookie's figured it out. "That's right, Jonathan… The Count's your father, and the entire Church wants to hunt you down. They set your brothers and sisters up to capture you, and…if you look at them…they feel terrible for having done this to you, cowboy."

The teary-eyed Strigoi looks to his brothers and sisters, succumbing to his emotions. He still retains a warm smile, despite the breaking of his heart. The other three rookies stand at their field brother's side, supporting him in his time of pain. My Grandfather continues explaining the situation.

"Count Valdo wants _you_ back, more than he wants _them_ back. He thinks of the Beach Boys…_as nothing more than disposable assassins_. I'm sorry that things had to go this way, but it was better to have _you_ stop them. At least you didn't have to go at it alone; _you had friends there at your side_."

"Count Valdo…is my father", Brother Johnny holds his hands to his line of vision, examining their strong build. "It makes sense. This strange power that I have…and why I can't control it. _Kore wa ō sugiru… Ō sugiru! (This is too much… Too much!)_"

"You should save your tears for later, your lordship!" a familiar, sinister voice sounds from the balcony seats. The party looks to the north, beholding the arrival of the King of Rutherford. Henry leaps over the edge of the balcony, safely gliding down to the theater floors upon a blanket of wind. After his safe landing, he walks forward, approaching the party with authoritative presence. "Your father wishes you at his side, _Johannes Andre von Dracula_. Come with me, quietly."

The King unveils himself, removing his hood from his head. The junior rookies are stunned to see the revealed face of the fabled King of Rutherford… _A face that they know all too well._

_"No effing way!" swears the stunned Strigoi._

_"It's…Ted DiBiase…?" seconds the Twins._

"No, that's just his alias", corrects the senior rookie, shooting the King a fierce stare. "That bastard's the King of Rutherford: _Henry Tudor of Aldington. I should know – that man's been a thorn in my side since my glory days, during the Renaissance._"

"It's always a pleasure, _descendant of Jacques de Molay_", addresses the King of Rutherford. Henry stands face-to-face with the descendant of an old rival. He examines the optic master's appearance, and is humored by the likeness of _the last Grand Master of the Knights Templar_. "_Hmph_. You look just like the old man. How fitting – _a man deemed a traitor to the Church is of blood relation to a blasphemous, lustful crook._"

_Father John remains strong of mind, giving a stern rebuttal to the King's offensive talk._

"Unlike Uncle Jacques, I wasn't persecuted from my sins. If anything, I was _fortunate_ enough to have my colleagues…my friends trust me. _They gave me a second chance, and I'm eternally grateful for it_… I'm _well_ aware of my Templar roots, and I wouldn't _dare_ disown them. Regardless of what my ancestors have done, I'm _nothing_ like them. Don't label me a crook, Henry…_when you're a wanted criminal yourself_."

"Spoken like a _true_ Templar – _nothing but mouth_", the King walks past the optic master, having instilled a hint of humility in his adversary. King Henry's path is blocked, by none other than my Grandfather. The monarch comes to a halt, and makes an imposing demand. "You're in the way, half-breed. I've business to tend to, and time is of the essence. Be a good boy, and step aside for an old man."

_"No give, pansy boy. This wagon train don't move for girly men. Your quarter in this opera house just reached its expiration. Now, get lost."_

"Do I need to run you off, _again?_" the King fills his right palm with dark energy, ready to force his way past the legendary Moonlight Mile. My Grandfather summons a thick cloud of silver flames upon his right fist, preparing to counterattack any suspicious movements. "I wouldn't continue to _cross_ me, if I were you. I'm well aware that you're my servant's child, but…_I'll kill you without warning. So, watch your mouth…boy._"

_"Eat shit, Henrietta", scornfully retorts the confident dhampir._

The King's had it with my Grandfather's abusive talk! He aims his right hand into the air, shooting a volley of dark energy spheres from his palm… Everyone watches in awe, witnessing the spheres' random pattern changes, which threatens to claim the life of whomever they touch.

_All of a sudden, the spheres begin heading in the direction of the Strigoi and the Savage Children!_

Everyone panics, watching as the spheres blitz past the Strigoi…and make contact with their desired prey. _Brother Love, Brother Johnston, Brother Wilson, Sister Jardine, Brother Marks, Sister Fataar, and Brother Chaplin are impaled through their hearts by a single sphere of dark energy!_ One-by-one, their bodies _collapse_…dead from the destruction of their coronary muscles… Brother Johnny's _devastated_, having watched the death of his siblings. The King's attack was so fast, _so ferocious_, that not even the Adored Twins were able to follow it.

_"I thought you said…" the silver flame igniting my Grandfather's right fist excites, becoming a full-body shell. Grandpa Christopher turns around, furiously demanding an answer. "…I thought you said you were going to protect them! **Why did you do that, you yellowbellied hypocrite!**"_

"I _did_ protect them."

**_"You call that protection…?"_**_ snaps my Grandfather, tossing his right fist at the King's face! King Henry grabs onto the infuriated dhampir's extended wrist with his left hand. His arrogant leer remains faultless. "You killed your master's kids… **Why?** Why did you do that to them…?"_

_"…Because he asked me to."_

Everyone in the room is _stunned_ to hear such a thing –_ the Count permitting the death of his own flesh and blood._ Brother Johnny, however, _refuses_ to turn around… _His obscured eyes are focused on the dead bodies of his brothers and sisters. His anger…slowly upsurges._

"So, calm down…this has _nothing_ to do with you", the King pushes my Grandfather away by shoving his arm forward. Grandpa Christopher's vampiric aura calms, and a smile is planted on his face. The King explains the Count's demands. "I was specifically asked to protect them, _if_ they were on the verge of winning. _However_, if they were already defeated…I was authorized to _execute_ them. Useless 'pawns' are a _liability_ to the Church."

**_"Urusai! (Shut up!)"_**_ the Strigoi's voice echoes throughout the entire opera house, giving a new meaning to the term 'dramatic stage solo'. Grandpa Christopher and the other rookies steps aside, allowing the King to behold the image of Brother Johnny's enraged black vampiric aura. The feeling of the Strigoi's existence reminds King Henry of his master; however, he appears to be unaffected by this display of anger. "You're not a king. A king leads his people to **glory**. **He doesn't take their lives, like a coward!** **You're the worst kind of evil…**"_

_Without warning, Brother Johnny relocates using flash movement, reappearing at the King's rear!_

His comrades are _stunned_ to see this level of speed – _agility that only Crusniks and SSS Class vampires are capable of…_ King Henry turns around, holding an energized right palm to the Strigoi's chest. Brother Johnny, _eyes filled with incensed bloodlust_, isn't moved by this sudden threatening gesture.

_"What? You want to shoot me **too**, ojīchan?"_

"What can you, _an ignorant Strigoi dreg_, do to stop me?" the King's question fails to falter the rookie's silent front. _King Henry releases a violent pulse of lunar light from his palm!_ _This should've repulsed Brother Johnny from the room; however, the King's current SS Class power level **pales** in comparison to the Strigoi's SSS Class form._ The heartless monarch is frozen with fear._ "What? How can this be possible? You don't even know how to control your powers… What is this nonsense!"_

_"Regardless of what they've done, you **killed** my family members", Brother Johnny grabs the King by his throat with a merciless right hand, and brutally lifts him off the ground. King Henry struggles to break free, but his efforts are all for naught – the empowered heir's much too strong for him. King Henry's not losing oxygen, due to his undead status; however, he's in a world of pain. "I think your death will compensate for what you've done, you heartless son of a bitch. Or…is that even the case? Maybe you do have a heart in that cold chest of yours. It's probably pitch black with evil, but it's still a heart… Hmm. I'm becoming…rather curious."_

_Brother Johnny's left hand is covered with a frightening layer of glass!_

_This spiritual transmutation creates a bulky set of claws on his free limb._ His comrades are _shocked_ to see this kind of ability. S_upernatural armament: a distinctive talent of an SSS Class warrior!_ The King looks at the glassy image of death, feeling as if his time has come.

_"So, 'your majesty', let's see what the 'heart of a King' **really** looks like", the infuriated Strigoi rears his left hand, preparing to rip the dark monarch's heart out! However, his raised limb is rebuked by a firm grip around his wrist… Brother Johnny looks over his left shoulder to see a familiar image. "Stuart? Is that you?"_

Brother Johnny's wrong about that… Damien and my _Great-Grandfather_ have arrived, having travelled the town for the past 20 minutes. Grandpa Frederic sports a new look: _a nice pair of black jeans, a handsomely woven Ralph Lauren shirt, a fresh pair of Polo shoes, a nice wristwatch and a stylish haircut._

"Sorry, young man…but I'm not Stuart", corrects the corrupted Dietrich, striking his son's attention. Grandpa Frederic looks upon the image of the immortal child he sired: _the seed of his loins, Christopher von Alucard._ As much as he'd like to embrace his son at this very second, Grandpa Frederic must put an end to this before the situations escalates. He speaks directly to the Strigoi, with a fatherly tone. "Let him go, child. Fate shall take its toll on his life. You needn't dirty your hands with his _filthy_ blood."

_"But, he–… He killed my–…"_

"Your lordship…this _isn't_ what your mother would want", Brother Johnny succumbs to reason, releasing the King from his lethal grasp. As Grandpa Frederic walks past him, the Strigoi physically reverts back to his normal self. The King gingerly holds his throat, suffering through a lingering pain. My ancestor stands above his injured master, looking down at how pathetic the King appears. "Well, what a turn of events. It seems as if you've been outmatched, oh _great_ King of Rutherford. You know what they say about weak leaders – _their followers tend to walk away…_ _Do you understand what I'm trying to say?_"

_"You wouldn't…dare…" coughs the King, before receiving a punt to the face from his rebellious servant._

"In other words, I'm _no longer_ your retainer", Grandpa Frederic looks to his son, noticing that Christopher's shedding tears. His parental instincts take over. Grandpa Frederic approaches his only begotten son. The loving pureblood removes his son's hat, and stares into a teary ocean of innocence. "_Christopher…my son._ You look _so_ much like your mother. A little like me, but so much _more_ like her."

_"Dad…is that **really** you?"_

"Yes, it is…back from the dead, or so I've been told", Christopher receives his father's warm embrace. The pureblood devotedly receives his son's love. _"My son. My only son… Oh, how daddy's missed you. I'm sorry that I left you and your mother, but… But, I had no other choice. I know that I'm not myself right now, but hopefully…hopefully, Andrew can do something about this. I have so much I want to do with you, boy. Also, I'd like to meet my great-grandson… I've already met his fiancé; cute little something he is."_

Damien nudges my ancestor on his back with a gentle left fist.

"I'm right here, you dirty old man", Grandpa Frederic places his right arm around Damien's shoulder, welcoming him into the family circle. "Enough with the family reunion. What are you going to do with the King?"

My Grandfathers look down to the injured King Henry, noticing that he's nearly recovered. The King looks up to the Von Alucard men, observing their spiteful expressions. Grandpa Frederic sticks to his former decision.

"Like I said before: _fate will take its toll on his life_. I _refuse_ to dirty my hands with the blood of _a boneless little queer._ The same should go for the rest of you… Henry, you've made the past 500 years of my life _a living hell_. Despite all of that, I don't hate you – I _pity_ you more than anything else. Enjoy your life while you can, for I believe…_you'll meet your death soon enough_. If not by the Count's hands…_my great-grandson will_… I'm old, and I'm _tired_ of fighting people like you. _May God have mercy on your pathetic soul…_ Come along, children. This _sissy_ needs time to heal his wounds."

Grandpa Frederic departs from the theater room, being followed by his son, future kin and field trainees. King Henry stands to his feet, having recovered from his neck injury. He lowers his head, turning to look upon the decomposing bodies of the Savage Children… King Henry snickers under his breath. This laughter isn't good – _the King has something dastardly in mind._

_("You think you've won…don't you, Frederic?") the King looks up to the image of the departing radicals in the distance. His right hand glows with a sphere of dark energy, as he brings up a foreboding fact. ("You're still under my control, which means that I'm **still** the master in charge of this little puppet show… Yes, that's **exactly** what I want you to do – walk into the enemy camp…**and destroy them from within!** So, enjoy your tenders moments while you still can, Fred. The moment of betrayal will be all the more…**amusing** when it happens.")_

It's true – _Dark Side Moon has yet to release its grip on Grandpa Frederic's heart_. It's okay that he wants to associate himself with us, _but he's putting everyone in danger by doing so._ When we meet him…_it's not going to be a pretty sight._ We _all_ know how Natalie is… That woman won't stand for such compromising situations.

__Or…will she be susceptible to change, for the sake of an old friend?__

* * *

><p>Our meeting with the Rolling Stones went well. Once again, I was shocked to find out who my allies are. The Rolling Stones are actually a radical faction…run by our C.O.O., <em>Paul Lévesque<em>. His wife, _Stephanie_, is the co-leader. And get this; this'll leave you with your mouth open. The faction lieutenant is Antony Carelli: a fellow Superstar, known to the WWE Universe as _Santino Marella_. The faction sergeant is Yamamoto Naofumi: another Superstar, known to the WWE Universe as _Yoshi Tatsu_. They're a comical little group, but one can tell that they deeply care for one another. Just what I need – _another dysfunctional family setting_.

_Speaking of "dysfunction", where the bloody hell has Damien ran off to?_

I haven't heard from him for the past 30 minutes… I'm starting to become antsy. Natalie told me of the dangers of New Halen City, namely the Savage Children. I haven't a clue that they've been killed by now, but I'm bound to find out sooner than I think. Currently, Damien's on his way here with his little travelling crew. The company that he has with him…_will give me the emotional surprise of a lifetime_.

Father Andrew left earlier, saying that he had some "plans" he needed to take care of. He didn't say much, just that he "met up with someone" that required his scientific attention. That loony Scot's been rather _quiet_ as of late. Even at breakfast, he didn't say much. I forgot that he was even in the room… _He's acting distant_. I wonder what's wrong with him; he hasn't been his usual _rude_ and _punitive_ self for quite some time.

_I've so many concerns…and they're starting to bother me._

"Why are you so down, Bennett-san?" Brother Naofumi joins me on the _Ian A.R. Stewart Building's_ balcony rest. Brother Anthony joins us, escaping the verbal formalities of our superior officers. "You missed the entire meeting. Mother Katherine's starting to worry about you."

_"I'll be fine, Naofumi. I just need some time to think."_

"Don't you give us that 'tough guy act', Stu", Brother Anthony pats me on my back like a big brother. He lounges against the wall, folding his arms in a relaxed manner. "Cheer up, mio amico (my friend). Your fiancé will be back in no time. I'm sure he's just sight-seeing. New Halen's a nice city, after all."

_"And a dangerous one, from what I heard. Those Beach Boys… I should've went with him."_

"Well, if it helps, I can see Damien-chan in the distance", Brother Naofumi's words lift my head. He's right – _Damien's right down the street, being followed by a group of people._ I can't make them out from this distance, but I know my boy's figure from _anywhere_. Brother Naofumi's sense of smell is triggered. His body spontaneously transmutes, forming fox ears on his head. His fox ears wiggle, signaling his recognition of the scent. "_Hmm…_ I know this smell. It smells like…_the Count?_"

_"It's probably Brother Johnny."_

"No, not just Johnny-kun… There's two more with him."

"It's probably Father Christopher and…" Brother Anthony is stumped on the third person. He scratches his head. "…I would say 'Master Frederic', but he's…_dead_, right?"

_"No, he's not. I would've thought you'd be briefed on that by now."_

"Lévesque-sama never tells us anything", smiles the transmuted Japanese radical. I look up and notice that he's grown fox ears on his head. Brother Naofumi looks down to me, confusedly tilting his head. "Is there something wrong, Bennett-san?"

_"Your… Your ears, they're…"_

"Oh, my ears", he laughs, transmuting them back to normal. "That happens every now and then. You see, we're not human either."

_"Really? If you don't mind me asking, what are you?"_

"I'm a 9-tailed kitsune (fox spirit)", smiles the excited Asian, causing one of his tails to randomly transmute. "My element is fire, and I'm the first ace vanguard of our team."

"And I…am a werewolf", proudly declares the Italian radical, showing total control over his transmutations. "My element is light, mainly thunder and moonlight. I'm the team's second ace vanguard."

_"And I'm…amazed", I giggle, realizing how strange my world has become. I stand from my seat, noticing that Damien's party has just entered the building. "Surprise after surprise, after surprise. Over and over again, it seems. A 9-tailed fox and a werewolf… Just how much more peculiar will this adventure become?"_

"Stranger things have happened, right?" optimistically questions the kitsune, sprouting another tail.

"Yeah, they have", cynically answers the untransformed werewolf, noticing his comrade's exposed tails.

_"I'm going to go greet my lover. Would you boys care to join me?"_

"Yes-hihi!" happily accepts the kitsune, sprouting his fox snout. Brother Anthony places his right hand over his face, feeling embarrassed by his comrade's random behavior. Brother Naofumi fully transmutes, exiting the balcony as a 9-tailed fox, lit by a gentle flame. "Time to go greet the guests-hihi! I must give them many nuzzles – many, many nuzzles-hihi."

_"Wow, you weren't kidding… He really **is** a 9-tailed fox."_

"And a random one at that", confirms my Italian comrade, as we depart from the balcony. "It's no surprise that he's Brother Johnny's closest friend. Those two are like _a hurricane of happiness_ when they're together."

_"I bet. Brother Johnny's a handful on his own. I can only imagine those two in the same room."_

"Don't worry, you'll see what I mean", smiles the untransformed werewolf.

_"For some reason, I don't think I want to know."_

_All of a sudden, the sound of two women screaming happily is heard._

_"What was that?"_

"The 'fun part' of our meeting", sarcastically answers my lycan comrade. We arrive downstairs to see the image of the Strigoi and the kitsune, behaving like two reunited girlfriends. My eyes widen at the odd sight. Brother Anthony contemptuously snickers. "You see? I told you – _these two are a hurricane of happiness when they're together._"

Just look at them… They're…cute. _Annoyingly_ cute, that is.

_"Aah, how you been?"_

_"Doing well-hihi!"_

_"Give me a hug, ya old fox!"_

_"Yay, snuggles-hihi!"_

_"You have such nice tails!'_

_"They're for the cuteness-hihi!"_

_"I wish Okāsan were to play with us!"_

_"That would be nice-hihi! Yūrei-onēchan is pretty lady-hihi!"_

_Somebody shoot me. This is so cute, it's making my stomach turn._

"Daddy, I'm back", my boy runs up to me and falls into my arms. He notices Brother Anthony, and the same thing happens all over again – Anthony and Damien begin acting excessively cute. _"Aah, Tony…!"_

_"It's my most favorite little buddy in the world! Come here and give me a hug, amico!"_

_"I haven't seen you in months, you handsome devil you!"_

_"Got hurt, but I'm doing just fine!"_

_"Oh my god, I love your facial hair! It's too cute!"_

_"Not as cute as my favorito amichetto (favorite little friend)!"_

Okay, where did these excessive displays of male cuteness come from? If I weren't a calm man, I would've snapped by now. However, I can't help myself – I want to turn away, but the cuteness…_I can't take it!_

_"Would you guys settle down? You're causing a scene."_

"But, Daddy…" Damien jumps into my embrace, cuddling against me like a giddy teenager. "…He's my favorite friend, my big brother, and my huggy buddy! We also studied at the University together, so we're like super close best friends!"

_"I was wondering what this ruckus was all about", the sound of…what seems to be my voice comes from behind me. I look over my shoulder, observing the image of my Grandfather…and my Great-grandfather – a man that looks like my identical twin. Damien runs up to him and gives the old man a hug. Grandpa Frederic is winded by his future kin's strong impact. "Doh! Easy, easy on me, young puppy. I'm an old man, after all."_

"Come on, don't be shy", Damien leads my great-grandfather to me by the right hand.

_I'm frozen…I can't move. I think I've forgotten how to move._

"Daddy, guess who this is?" question my boy, presenting a modified mirror image to me.

_"You look… You look just like…me."_

"It's a wonderful thing, isn't it?" snickers the old man, sporting our family's wry sense of humor.

_"You even sound like me. It's…weird."_

My great-grandfather embraces me, speaking with warm verse, "Stuart, I'm so _very_ happy to meet you… My son's told me so much about you. You've an _extraordinary_ man…_and you're my Great-grandson._"

_"Wait a second…" I gently pull away from my ancestor, recognizing his description. "…Are you, by any chance…Great-grandfather Frederic?"_

"The one and only, my boy", I embrace my Great-grandfather, not wanting to let him go. Grandpa Christopher joins our family circle, sharing our temporal reunion. Our friends and loved ones gather, witnessing our strong bond. _"My children… I have my children in my arms. Life doesn't get any better than this."_

_"It's not just a story…not anymore…" my elders are touched by my words, holding me close in their fatherly arms. I begin to shed tears, realizing what this means. "…I've always thought the Romance to be nothing more than a mere campfire legend. It hurts to think that now, because…I'm standing next to two of the story's heroes. My Grandpa Christopher…and my Great-grandpa Frederic. I feel like the luckiest man of earth."_

Grandpa Frederic notices the Head Mother approaching. Natalie stops in front of us with commanding presence. The former queen comes to a halt in front of her old friend… The corrupted Dietrich already knows why she's approached him, but he chooses to talk around the issue at hand.

"Katherine, it's so good to see you", he humbly greets with opened arms. Natalie lowers her head just a bit, not accepting his hug. My Great-grandfather becomes confused. "What troubles you, dear? Are you not happy to see me back?"

_"It's not that, Freddie…" the Head Mother mournfully clings to her old friend, allowing tears to fall from her beautiful eyes The Dietrich embraces the weeping beauty, as the Crusnik lord and the former holy man approaches them. "…Freddie, why did you come back like this? Why, in this condition? I didn't want to see you like this… I can't feel your heart, anymore. It's tearing me apart…"_

"We know what the King did to ya, fella", Stephen seconds, confirming his similar feelings. "Father Andrew says that there's a way to cure you, but it's not as easy as you'd think."

"What's the procedure?" questions the Dietrich.

_"What I suspected all along… You'll have to kill the King himself, in order to be freed of his spell."_

"That's it?" laughs the senile nightwalker. "Well, that shouldn't be too hard. Henry's always been a pushover in my opinion."

_"You don't know Henry like I do", Natalie stands up straight, catching everyone's attention. Her head is lowered still, but her voice is still vibrant enough to hear. "Dark Side Moon's much stronger than you think. It's a power that parallels the Count's and the Pope's supernatural muscle. There's a reason why he's one of the Patriarchs of the Church, Freddie… He's a monster."_

"Kate's absolutely right, Fred", agrees the Crusnik lord. "The King sent you here as a pawn to cause trouble…unbeknownst to you, of course. But, don't worry – we're going to do everything in our power to restore you to your original self. Henry's power may be great, but we're a team…no…we're a _family_ that can stop him. If we put our heads together, we may stand a fighting chance against him."

"Then, the best thing for you guys to do is take the southern route through Brownstone", suggests the leader of the Rolling Stones. Paul's suggestion grasps our attention. "It's the quickest way to Aldington. After that, all you have to do is head southwest for Rutherford. You should be finished with your route in another week."

"Brownstone has the _best_ hotels", confirms the beautiful co-leader. "They're ten-times better than the Astoria. You'll have a good time there, I'm sure of it."

"We'll be on standby if you require our faction's assistance", extends the leader.

"Thanks a bunch, guys", humbly accepts the Head Mother, wiping her face of bloody tears. Natalie looks at her radicals with authoritative eyes. "Alright men, here's the deal: Father Christopher, escort the junior rookies back to base. Fred, I need for you to follow them, too. Andrew's going to place you in cybernetic suspension until you've been spiritually synced."

_"You mean he's going to lock me up in one of his chambers?"_

"It's the best thing for you now, plus it'll give you some time to rest", pets the Head Mother.

_"Well, I could use a little shuteye. I guess it won't hurt to lounge around for a bit."_

"I'll be there with you", volunteers the Crusnik lord, putting a smile on Grandpa Frederic's handsome face. "I couldn't leave you in there all by yourself. It's time for me to return anyway – Michael and Josh are probably flipping out by now. You know how _worked up _those two can become."

_"Sounds good to me. You kids just enjoy yourselves. This old man has to catch up on a lot of sleep." _

"Then, it's settled – we leave for Aldington tomorrow", announces the Head Mother. "Everyone, let's rest up for the evening. I think we've all had a busy day. The rest will do us some good."

__"Yes, ma'am", salutes her loyal radicals.__

* * *

><p><em>Later on that evening, Damien and I are resting up, watching an interesting program on the telly.<em>

This episode of _Georgette's Cove_, a tale about a lady attempting to solve the mystery of her wealthy grandfather's murder, has captivated us with its finely written storyline. The heroine of the story, Georgette Elms, has just met up with her distant cousin, Joseph Patrick. Currently, they're trying to gain more clues to discover the identity of their grandfather's murderer. People in the family are suspecting that it's an old friend of the family, Evangeline Lewis, but it's not looking that way.

_Our guess is that it's the mail courier, Janise Hartsfield. Then again, this show's always been an unpredictable series. You think it's one person, and then…it turns out to be the wrong one. They either end up dying or they're suddenly missing from their homes, being found in the most random of places. The only thing the family knows is that the killer eccentrically calls himself 'V' in threat letters..._

_…Yep, that pretty much sounds like **every** televised drama-mystery in the world._

"This show's so generic, but it's so…_good_."

"I know, right", laughs my nuzzling boy. His cellphone rings. Damien answers the phone, cheerful as ever. "This is Damien! How may I help you?"

_"I'll be waiting for you in Brownstone", the person says nothing else, and hangs up._

Damien looks at his cellphone's call history, wondering who this mysterious caller is… _He discovers that the person's number has been blocked._ My fiancé scratches his head, which isn't like him.

"Are you all right, Sweets?"

"Yeah, but I just got a weird call", he answers confusedly.

"A weird call, you say?" I tilt my eyebrow. "What was the message?"

"Something about _'I'll be waiting for you in Brownstone'_. This person was a rather bold little herald, quite the eccentric character as well."

"I wonder who this _'mystery person'_ could be."

My fiancé laughs wholesomely, snuggling against my chest, "Probably another of my stalkers, as if I don't have enough of those already."

"Probably no one of major importance. Don't let it bother you."

"I'll try not to, love", unbeknownst to him, however…Damien's _'mystery caller'_ watches him from afar.

_"Look at them, all snugged and cozy in their bed…" Sister Eve stands atop of a rooftop not too far from the Ian A.R. Stewart Building. Using her cybernetic vision, the bitter Methuselah stalks us with heated gaze. "…I was once in your arms, Stuart. But, just like any man, you threw me away because you couldn't cut it. No man seems to be strong enough for me, but I…wanted **you** to be the strong one. So, why? **Why**…did you hurt me like that, you selfish son of a bitch?"_

The scorned femme cyborg sheds mournful tears from her beautiful eyes.

No woman enjoys being let go, but I had no choice… I loved Eve, but I wasn't _in love_ with her. She _refused_ to accept that, and chased me away. I didn't dump her…_I let her go_. She has _yet_ to understand that but, in the direction she's going, _she'll end up having the truth beat into her_.

_"Damien, the bandit that stole my world from me…" her jealousy eats away at her, threatening to break the cellphone in her right hand to pieces. "…I won't let you find happiness. You hear me? I won't let you have him for yourself. I respect you as the Executive of Creative Development & Operations, but as a person…I just can't find the courage to say that I do. When we meet in Brownstone, we'll decide who gets Stuart…with mortal combat!"_

Sister Eve seems focused on her ambitions… She wants me back more than _anything else_ in the world; _however_, will it all backfire on her in the end? Our next stop is Brownstone, where my favorite Rock band, _Burning Sevenfold_, is scheduled to tour in a couple of days. I've preordered tickets for me and the rest of our travelling party, to break the ice on our perilous situation. However, it looks like things are _bound_ to spiral out of hand… Speaking of which, how will we manage the wrath of a jealous femme Methuselah?

Will Damien be able to awaken Sister Eve from her blind jealousy?

Will my Great-grandfather ever return to his original self?

Will we ever be able to defeat the King and his dangerous existence of darkness, _Dark Side Moon_?

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Ending Theme 2 – "Colors" by Utada Hikaru)<strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Up Next: Chapter 17 – The Boy is Mine, Verse 1)<strong>_


	18. Chapter 17: The Boy is Mine, Verse 1

**_BLOOD/Night_**

* * *

><p><em>The Mother Superior departed from La Chiesa della Fede Lunari (The Church of the Lunar Faith) several hours ago, after having the offer of a lifetime extended to her.<em>

The offer: _to assist with the eradication of the Count, Valdo von Dracula._ Though it was the chance of a lifetime, the Mother Superior gave her younger brother an honest answer.

"Fratellino (Little brother), I'm sorry…but, I can't help you."

"Perché (Why), Wendelina?" asked the disappointed cryobiologist.

"_It's not that I don't want to…I just can't."_

His sister's voice was heavy, having spoken _a thousand unsaid words._ Cardinal Niccolò didn't have to ask her – he already knew _why_ she rejected his offer. The thought of it sent a bolt of guilt through his old soul.

"I see", the Cardinal looked up to the young Pupazzetti girl observing her master's conversation. He fathomed his sister's rejection with reminiscent verse, placing his fists behind his back. "There was a time when the world could live in peace… A time we nightwalkers refer to as _'the Calm'_. The Calm, comprised of the age prior to Il Conte's resurrection, was an era where there was no bloodshed; no tears; no suffering; but most of all, _no death_. Technology blossomed from the minds of man, building a society capable of being called _'home'_. Those glorious days were brought to an end, when the Persian enchantress, _Selena_, cast a spell upon the corpse of the man she loved more than life itself. Conte Valdo rose from the dead, laid upon an altar of gold…_but the act in itself came with a price_."

_*****Flashback to Tehran, Persia 1097…*****_

"Valdo, my love…grace this world with your spirit, once again!" Selena's divination restored life into Il Conte's corpse. His youth was restored, as well, but his skin remained in a state of Pallor mortis. His eyes did open, and Il Conte looked upon the beauty of his sorceress lover. Selena wept, having successfully revivified the man of her dreams. "Valdo… Valdo, you're back. Oh, thank God!"

The joyful enchantress watched Il Conte rise, sitting on the edge of the alter before her. In her eyes, he was beautiful… Conte Valdo didn't appear as a vampire to her, though she knew exactly what he had become.

"Valdo…take my blood, as a token of our love", she offered.

"Why have you done this for me?"

"I…I did it, because…"the emotional enchantress clung to her lover's cold body, allowing her tears to fall. Conte Valdo embraced her, smelling the sweet aroma of her lifeblood. "…I did it…because I never want to live a life without you, Valdo. Without you, life means nothing!"

"Selena…" Il Conte noticed that his tears had become his own blood. His bloodlust grew with every drop. The yearning soon overwhelmed him. "…If you wish to give me everlasting life, then so be it. I humbly accept your love, and will remember you for all eternity."

His lips parted, bearing a set of carnivorous fangs. They did bury into her throat, sucking the life force from the enchantress's dying body. Selena's existence faded, and Il Conte's suffering began.

To exercise his sorrow, Conte Valdo killed every night, and feasted upon the blood of his victims. The sun became an averse antagonist, which cursed him with bodily burns that faded come moonrise. Visions of the enchantress haunted him, reminding Il Conte of his iniquitous existence. He soon departed from the Islamic nation, and hasn't returned there ever since… The memories of the enchantress exiled him from the Persian sands.

Two-hundred years later, he began his succession to the head position of the Church. Fueled by his lingering heartbreak, Conte Valdo claimed the mortality of every member of the Clergy; some of which were mere citizens that tamed his impulsive desires. By the time King Henry VIII rose to power in England, he successfully carried out his plan to seize influence over the nation. After claiming the King's mortality, Conte Valdo replaced the original Henry Tudor with a morbidly obese idiot…who eventually died on his own. The same goes for Pope Leonard. I need not remind you of what the Count did to us: _how he separated our family, just to please his sick and perverted desires._ There was no stopping his _relentless_ governmental assault… Pretty soon, _all_ of Parliament became his personal army of the undead.

_By the middle of the 16__th__ Century, Conte Valdo…ruled all of Europe._

_*****…Back to the present*****_

"Sorella maggiore (Elder sister), we suffer because of his sorrow", the Cardinal faced his elder sister with melancholic expression. He relieved himself of his hood, showing the Mother Superior his emotional eyes. "He did the same to you: mia sorella bella (my beautiful sister), who has done nothing to deserve such heartache."

"Niccolò…" the Mother Superior walked into her younger brother's embrace, and shared a moment of suffering with her devoted sibling. The beautiful abbess finally understood her younger brother's reason behind his strenuous research. "…You're doing this for me, aren't you? All of this – the cryogenic super soldiers, the laboratory, your betrayal of the Church… I'm a very fortunate woman…to have such a wonderful fratellino. Niccolò, if you're willing to extend your hand to me, then I will take it."

"Grazie (Thank you), Wendelina", the abbess's acceptance was all that the Cardinal wanted.

Reflecting on what happened at La Chiesa, Mother Wendy realizes that her revenge on the Count is another step away from being exacted. She has no idea why she _initially_ refused the offer… Perhaps it was doubt, or maybe it was fear. Either way, her emotions have been conquered.

Resting in the comfort of her airborne private jet, the Mother Superior thinks of her estranged spouse.

"Thaddeus…" a tear of blood scrolls from her left eye. Mother Wendy gazes at the evening moon outside her window, wondering what's become of her enslaved husband. The thought of one day reuniting with her husband, keeps her spirit strong. "…I'll find you, sooner or later. And, on that day…I'll take you back. I'll save you from the Count. I _won't_ allow him to keep us apart forever. I vow this…with _every_ inch of my life!"

The abbess receives an E-mail message on her iPad… Mother Wendy retrieves her tablet computer from her suitcase, places it on her lap, and scrolls her right index finger across the screen. The tablet awakens from hibernation, allowing her to check her mail.

Hip to the ways of modern technology, the Mother Superior opens her mail and finds a message from her Neverland Office laptop computer. The message title reads: _"Urgent! Respond ASAP!"_

"What's this?" the curious immortal beauty begins reading the message to herself. "Mother Wendy, this is Brother Jayson. I regret to inform you that Sister Eve…_has been missing for the past few hours?_"

This report disturbs her. The thought of having her prized combat specialist MIA sends a chill up her spine.

"What in the name of _God_ is going on here?" she gasps, continuing with the rest of the report. "Father Andrew's ordered a mandatory mass incisive, however, we're unable to track her circuitry. It's as if she manually restricted _any_ contact from home base or the Rutherford HQ. But, we have good news: _our research facility near Brownstone was able to track her down._ The Brownstone Base states that she's currently _about 15 miles_ from the city limits. She may have manually reprogramed her location circuitry, but her _infrared heat reading's_ another thing. In consideration of her level of hostility, _according to an amorous letter she left behind_ _in her bedroom_, we're categorizing her as _a Level 5 threat_. I've scanned the letter and sent it to you. You should get it in a couple of minutes. I'm off to join the other Methuselahs. Enjoy the rest of your trip."

Mother Wendy receives the secondary E-mail… She opens it, and begins reading the amorous letter.

The message reads:

"_I've lost all patience. If you read this letter, you'll know why I left without telling anyone… I love him – I love Stuart, and I can't risk sitting back any longer. Call me bitter. I know you're going to say that, Kevin, Jayson, John. You're men…so, you wouldn't understand what it means to be a woman…who's __**always**__ had her heart broken by the opposite sex. Not even Mother Wendy understands me anymore. When I went to confide in her about my heartbreak, she dismissed it and told me 'there's other fish in the sea'. __**No 'fish' can fill the void that Stuart's obligated to fill!**__ I'll __**never**__ love another man…like I love him! My heart belongs to him, and __**ONLY**__ him! To win the love of my estranged Romeo, I will follow the Amazonian Code: a battle to the death with my object of affection's current mate. That's right – I'm going to fight Damien, regardless of whether or not it kills me in the end. It's the way of us warrior women. You can search for me all you want… But…there's no way I'm returning to people who don't care about me at all. I resign my ranks as a Methuselah operative. Goodbye."_

Mother Wendy weeps, recognizing the resentment in the Amazon's letter. It's the anger of a woman who's madly in love…_with a man who belongs another_. It's a similar pain to her own, but Sister Eve's sadness is twisted with acrimony. The beautiful combat specialist resigned her ranks, and set up camp just outside of the Brownstone city limits…

…She's waiting for us to arrive. Having faith in her Amazon instincts, the beautiful warrior woman contemplates the battle of a lifetime. Her fists ache to be buried in the jaws of her rival: my fiancé, Damien Isaiah Crosse. As time progresses, the flame of her one-sided vendetta burns brighter…_and brighter_.

Currently, the two top Methuselah teams, t_he Highwaymen and the Lost Boyz_, are on their way to Brownstone to discontinue their sister's reckless behavior. They're expected to arrive in the next 5 hours. Will they be able to change the Amazon's vicious ambitions, or will the romantic battle inevitably commence?

_The epic saga continues…_

* * *

><p><em><strong><strong><em>(Opening Theme 2 – "Chikyuugi" by Matsuzawa Yumi)<em>****_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 17 – <strong>**The Boy is Mine, Verse 1**_

* * *

><p><em>I'm unable to sleep…<em>

My body refuses to find rest. I fell asleep for about 15 minutes, but I haven't been able to get as much as a wink in since I woke 5 minutes ago. Something's not right… I feel that someone's plotting against me.

And the dream I had… It doesn't make things any better for me.

I haven't had this sort of nightmare in years: _the vision of someone dying in my arms_. The last time I had this sort of foreboding reverie, someone near and dear to me…_was killed a few days later_. I found myself a friend short, and I haven't been able to outlive the pain of my loss. Only, this time, this person didn't seem as strong and intimidating as my late friend – _a Welsh wrestler named Joseph Starr_.

_If I'm having these visions again…somebody else…is going to die._

"Daddy, are you awake?" my boy's drowsy voice slightly alerts me. Damien turns around in bed, and cuddles against me. I refuse to look him in the face. My fiancé lightly pets me, feeling that I'm troubled by something. "Are you unable to sleep, love? The Sandman's taking a break from his nightly duties with you?"

"More or less, dear."

"Want me to help you sleep?" my boy gently caresses my left Latissimus with his corresponding hand.

"Not tonight, Sweets. Daddy's got a lot on his mind right now."

"Tell me about it, Stuey", my supportive lover cuddles against my back, holding me with warm embrace.

"Well…I had a nightmare."

"A nightmare, you say?" Damien kisses my ear, petting me with tenderness.

"Yes, a very dreadful one. Someone died in it."

"Was it one of us?"

"No, it wasn't", I answer, remembering the shape of the obscured figure that laid in my arms. "I recognized the figure of the person, but I couldn't match a face to it. The thought of _who_ this person could be…_is really starting to bother me._ I can't sleep because of it."

"It's probably just all in your head, love", Damien kisses my temple, softly trailing his left index finger across the lining of my tattoo. "You should get some rest, Stuey. We've a pretty busy day ahead of us."

"I'll try…for you."

I want to tell him that I'm not guaranteeing anything, but Damien would just continue to hound me. I'm unable to take his lectures right now. My spirit… It's uneasy, because I can't understand the mystery behind my premonition. The thought of _who_ this person could be… _No, I can't continue to meditate on it._

_I hate when I carry on like that – it's a trying characteristic that I've yet to outgrow._

After a few minutes of keeping my eyes closed, my body finds rest once more… And, as fate would have it, the nightmare reoccurs. I am placed in the same situation: _a grim vision of me, holding the body of a fading life_.

"Stuart…" weeps the fallen.

_"Who…are you?"_

"Stuart…" the obscured figure struggles to touch my face with its right hand, but the loss of strength forbids it to reach any further. "…Stuart, I…love…y–…"

Before the figure can finish its sentence…it dies in my arms. No… _No, damn you! Don't die on me!_

_"Wake up! Who are you? Who are you, damn it? You're my dream – I order you to answer me!"_

_"There was nothing I could do…" the voice of my fiancé frightens me, causing me to drop the figure in my arms. Its head hits the ground, which causes the figure's body to spontaneously shatter like a fragile glass sculpture. "…Stuart, why did you do it? Why did you…. Why did you do it…?"_

I turn around and look at the image of my fiancé in his full Crusnik form. He's bleeding from a wound in his chest. Damien blocks the blood flow with his right hand.

_Oh, God…how did this happen…?_

_"Damien, who did this to you?" I approach him with concerned expression._

_"Don't you **dare** come near me!" he tearfully roars, halting me in my tracks. "All of this happened…because of you… It'll all your fault, and I hate you!"_

_"What have I done wrong…? I don't understand…!"_

_I awaken in a cold sweat; my heart races; my spirit is crushed…_

_God, what's wrong with me? Why did you allow me to see that? Is this…punishment?_

_If so…why?_

_("Give me an answer, Lord"), tears fall from my eyes, trail across my face, and damps my pillow. ("Who was it – who was the person in my arms? Why is my heart breaking so much, when nothing's even happened yet? God, why do I feel…so guilty…?")_

"Stuey, what's wrong?" my sobbing has awakened my boy from slumber. Damn, I should've been more quiet about it… No use complaining, he's already nurturing me. Damien's touch eases the pain. "I haven't seen you cry like this…since the night you declared your love for me. But, these tears are different – they're sad, dejected… Don't give me a 'tough guy' act. Let me hold you, Stuart."

"Okay…" with my word, Damien wraps his left arm around my chest.

That dream left its mark on me. I don't think I can close my eyes… Not after what I saw.

A person dying in my arms…and Damien… Damien was angry with me.

_No, not angry… He was furious with me. I've never seen that side of Damien – he was completely livid, almost as if he would've taken my head off if I touched him. I can't take any more of this… I've got to stop whatever that nightmare was about from happening._

___I don't know what this "something" is…but, I'll do everything I can to keep the peace in my inner circle.___

* * *

><p><em>The acrimonious Amazon sits cradled before a lit campfire.<em>

Her spirit feels cold, but the fire keeps her warm. As one who's used to nature, Sister Eve's accustomed to living in the outdoors. It's been _years_, but she remembers how to survive on her own. Her tribe lived off of hunting and gathering for ages… Her evening meal, _a roasting wild boar_, is almost done. The aroma tickles her senses.

"_Mmm_, just like mother used to make", she smiles, reminiscing of her days in the wild.

A fond memory runs across her mind: _her childhood in the Amazonian Rainforest._

**_***Flashback to Manaus, Brazil 1995**_…_*****_**

During those days, Eve was a proud member of _the Donna Tribe_. Before her mother married "an abominable man", leading to her family's expulsion from the Donna Tribe, she enjoyed the earlier stages of her formative years with her closest friend… Eve played with an Amazon girl named _LaBelle_ almost every other day, or at least that's what I remember her telling me._ I'm pretty sure she's thinking of the time when LaBelle saved her from the jaws of a hungry alligator._

_"Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi…!" the spunky Amazoness swooped down from the highest treetop, swinging from a loose tree vine. "Eve, hang on, I'm almost there!"_

**_"Aah…!"_**_ the young Eve hung by her entangled ankle, and prayed to the heavens that the tree vine that caught her would hold just a little bit longer. "LaBelle, save me! The vine's about to snap! Don't let it eat me…!"_

LaBelle, with her trusty stone club in hand, fell from the air with heroic energy!

_"Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi…!" the young Amazoness smashes her stone club into the alligator's skull, cracking its hard skin! The epic act opens a fatal hemorrhage in the monster's brain! The vine entangling Eve's ankle finally snaps, causing her to plunge into the waters below. LaBelle climbs onto a large water stone, and observes how silly her friend looks when drenched in river water. "Ha-ha-ha! You look like an angry water buffalo!"_

_"No, I don't!" stomps the touchy Eve._

_"Yes, you do. Look down at the water – look it, look it."_

The young Eve looks down into the river, gazing at her rippling reflection. She notices that her hair's foreshadowing her eyes, and she's soaking wet from head to toe… She really _does_ look like a water buffalo. The girls laugh about it, sharing a sweet moment of youthful merriment.

_"Hee-hee-hee-hee, I look funny!" giggles the young Eve._

_"I told you!" the prepubescent Eve begins behaving like a water buffalo, making LaBelle laugh. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…! Yea, yea, a water buffalo! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!"_

_"Roar! Gimmie some leaves – they're good for the tummy!"_

_"Yea, yea, a water buffalo!" cheers the giddy LaBelle._

**_***…Back to the present***_**

That happened 16 years ago, and that was the last time that Eve saw LaBelle. Just a few days later, the Donna Tribe was attacked by a brutal group of Gideonite poachers. Their advanced weaponry and knowledge outclassed the Donnas' primitive survival skills. The attack left LaBelle without a family, and she was taken captive by the Gideonite poachers. The Village was ruined in the process, eventually leading to the extinction of the entire Donna Tribe.

_It's a bittersweet memory that always…always makes her cry._

"No matter how many times I try, I just can't forget it", tears trail down her beautiful face, as the memories begin to haunt her. "My mother married to escape death, but the Queen refused to recognize that. It's written – _'An Amazoness is forbidden to mate or join with an abominable man'_. It was one of our Tribe's tenets, but Mother broke that principle for the sake of her children… In the end, because they refused to do the same…the Donnas died out. The entire Village…_is gone_."

_This is one of the many things that has hardened her animosity towards men. Only a few men have been able to reach her heart – me being one of them… It's an accomplishment: to gain the trust of a broken woman. I can understand why Eve's so emotional and fragile. When the opposite sex continuously breaks your heart, the bitterness eventually settles… That bitterness, if left alone, will lead to one's total self-destruction._

"I _refuse_ to have my heart broken all over again", the Amazoness balls her fists, squeezing the rage from her bare hands. Her beautiful eyes furiously animate with an emotional flame. _"Damien, you're just like them… You're just like those poachers that ruined my life. I won't allow you the chance – the opportunity to take something away from me! I'll kill you…I'll kill you, for sure!"_

_All of a sudden, a familiar sound graces the night skies…_

"Hmm? Is that…ionic jets?" the Amazoness looks to the starry sky, noticing seven sets of ionic exhaust flames approaching her position. Using her _Hawkeye Vision_, a supernatural trait distinctive to the Donnas, the beautiful warrior woman's able to perceive the image of the oncoming visitors. _("It's them – Father Andrew and his Methuselahs. I knew they'd eventually come looking for me. Just my shit luck, I guess.")_

The Sound Master and his cyborg dispatch units safely touches down, landing several feet away from the lounging Amazoness. Sister Eve refuses to look at them, already knowing why they've come.

"Eve, thank God", sighs the Sound Master, as the arriving party approaches the antisocial warrior woman.

_"Don't come near me!"_ forbids the emotional Amazoness, halting her friends in their tracks. "Don't you come anywhere near me. I've had enough of your lectures… _Just go away!_"

_"What are you talking about, lassie?"_

"Don't play innocent with me…_Andrew_", Eve's disrespectful tone appalls her fellow Methuselahs. Father Andrew realizes that the stubborn Amazoness is beyond reason. "_None_ of you really cared. You only _pretended_ to… Just like a bunch of machines – no class, no brain, no _nothing_. They only listen to their 'master's' every wish, and abide by his every word…_like a bunch of puppets_. I'm no longer one of your cute little marionettes, Andrew. Get away from me… _Don't ever come near me, again!_"

"Shut up, Eve!" Sister Sarona steps forward, speaking as the woman of the group. The tough Samoan beauty pulls her rebellious comrade to her feet with a brutal right grip. "This has to be the _dumbest_ thing you've ever done, _you immature drama queen_. I read that damn letter… Crying over spilled milk, like a like a heartbroken teenager. You make me sick!"

_"What would you know, you fucking butch?" the Amazoness allows tears to fall from her obscured eyes, striking her female colleague's attention. "You go around, parading like you're just another one of the boys. You don't understand my troubles, and you never will. Stop trying to relate your masculine feelings with my own… You don't know the first damn thing about being a woman – a **real** woman, with womanly emotions."_

"You think I want to be a spoiled little brat like _you?_" the Samoan Huntress's cold attitude poses a thick defense against Eve's emotional words. "_I'm_ the real woman here – _the kind that doesn't allow men to rule my life._ I'm not _prissy_, I'm a whiny little _bitch_, and I'll be _damned_ if I play 'scapegoat' for a _bullethead_ like Stuart. I love the guy, but I wouldn't lose my _womanhood_ for him… _Not like you, little Ms. Princess_."

"That's enough, Ronnie", Brother Paul steps forward, tranquilizing the femme cyborg's scorned anger with a gentle right hand. "Let me speak with her. She needs to be spoken to, not scolded. There's nothing more fragile than a woman's heart. You, a woman yourself, should understand that."

"…Fine", the Huntress releases her stubborn comrade, walking away in silence.

As the most composed and serene of the Methuselahs, the Swordsman shares his knowledge with the acrimonious warrior woman. Sister Eve, however, appears to be just as determined as ever.

"Why are you doing this, Eve?" the Swordsman faces his comrade, beholding her mournful, veiled eyes.

_"What's it to you?"_

"Something that sparks my concern", Paul takes a step forward, triggering a chain reaction from his comrade – Eve excites the wind around her body, creating a light tornadic shield. The Swordsman understands the femme cyborg's anger. "We're _all_ concerned, Eve. Such pain…it's as if you've _never_ seen a happy day in your entire life. But, you've never told us of your troubles, only Mother Wendy and Father Andrew. What 'men' cannot understand, they tend to ignore or they antagonize it. I should know, hanging around with a bumbling idiot like Brother Heath every day."

_"I'm standing right here, you jackass!" snaps the Gunslinger. "Don't reference me in your stupid little analogies, ya self-righteous bum suck!"_

"You see what I mean?" laughs the coolheaded Methuselah, triggering a reaction from his female comrade. Sister Eve lifts her head, observing how closely knit her friends are. "We're _all_ imperfect. There's not a single one of us, even Father Andrew himself, who's innocent of something. We understand how you feel, and we just want to help you. Eve, Stuart's the _past_ – you have to accept that, or you won't last for much longer. Your badge… You threw away your life support. Without it, a Methuselah only has _less_ than a week to live. Eve, _please_, come back and let us help you? Your life isn't worth–…"

"I've heard enough of your sweet talk, PJ", Sister Eve calms her tornadic shell, turning her back to her creator and fellow cyborgs. The Swordsman closes his eyes, lowering his head with sympathetic gesture. "I already knew about that: _about the Goldener Phönixkreuz badge being my life support chip…_ I don't care, and I _don't_ want your help. When I _needed_ your help, _you sat there and sipped your green tea like a self-righteous Buddha statue_."

"Yep, that's him all right", mockingly snickers the outspoken Brother Heath.

_"Would you be quiet?" Brother John, Sister Sarona, Brother Jayson and Brother Kevin begins comically jumping their rude comrade, building a large ball of dust around their tussling party. "He's trying to make a point, you moron! You're ruining the moment!"_

_"Ouch! Okay, okay, I'll zip my yap already!" pleads the aching Gunslinger._

_Brother Randal palms his face in a mode of discomfiture, "Ugh... What a bunch of idiots."_

"Cyber-technology completely changes the body, but leaves a large fraction of 'the original mind'…" Father Andrew steps forward, joining Brother Paul at his side. The ageless Sound Master speaks directly to the stubborn Amazoness. "…Even in your reformed state, you're still the same lassie I met _years_ ago – stubborn and rotten to the core, but _adorably_ so. You're willing to risk your life for the man that you love, which proves your devotion for Stuart. I don't know _what_ _kind of pussy whoopin'_ that numbskull put on you, but it's got you acting like a reckless wild bull. Was the sex really _that_ good, sweetie?"

_"That's none of your business, you perverted old man."_

"You're right about that…I _am_ a perverted old man, and I'm damn proud of it", Father Andrew's straightforwardness earns a hint of the Amazoness's respect. She huffs, and dismisses her feelings. However, what the cyber-technologist says next…humbles the stubborn warrior woman. "And, if you haven't noticed, it's _because_ I'm 'a perverted old man' that you kids have your lives... Scientists are 'natural born perverts': _men and women who defile the laws of nature, digging into the secrets of the unknown and the forbidden._ It's because of these 'perversions' that we're called 'mad scientists', 'crazies', 'eccentrics'… As a _crazy_ old man, I _love_ the children that I 'create' more than anything else. Well…_maybe except for one person_."

Sister Eve's interest is sparked. She turns to her creator with heeding expression.

"What are you talking about, old man?" rudely questions the Amazoness.

_"Eve, you're in love with Stuart…but, I…" Father Andrew lowers his head, hiding his eyes from his children._

For the first time in ages, Father Andrew sheds a bloody tear… _No, it's more than that…he's crying._ Sister Eve's _never_ seen her creator in this state of mind before.

"Father Andrew…what's wrong?" she concernedly asks.

_"…The truth is…" the Sound Master lifts his head, showing a teary smile of guilt. "…The truth is, I'm… I'm in love with Stuart's fiancé, Damien."_

Before his body's overwhelmed by bloodlust, Father Andrew ceases his crying and wipes his face with his right forearm… His Methuselahs are surprised, hearing something so scandalous come from their creator's lips. Sister Eve shields the truth from reaching her heart, persevering her tenacious beliefs.

"_Bullshit!_ Why should I believe _anything_ you say?" Sister Eve's inflexibility brings a smile to her creator's handsome face. The Amazoness loses her patience. "Answer me! Don't you _dare_ stand there and give me that cocky grin of yours… Talk, _now!_"

_"What is there not to believe about the truth, lassie?"_

"That's not the truth…" she denies, turning her head away from the Sound Master's image. "…You're just telling me that to coax me into coming back. Like I said before, I'm not coming back. Try all you want. You can take your affections and kiss my ass with them. Even if it was the truth, it wouldn't surprise me… _Leave it to a lecherous old freak to fall in love with a baby he held in his arms 27 years ago!_"

Father Andrew's angered by Eve's rude outburst of anger, but refuses to act hastily or recklessly. Instead of slapping her, like he wants to, the cyber-technologist takes out a Methuselah life support badge from his lab coat and tosses it to the Amazoness's feet. Eve looks down, confused by his impulsive behavior.

___"As a man, I should kill you for saying that to me", the Amazoness looks up to her creator's furious, burning eyes, realizing that she's just crossed the line. "You have no right, talking down on my connection to Damien like that… He was the first person, younger or older, who made me feel…alive, after having been dead for so long. For hundreds of years, for centuries…he was the only one who did it for me. I love Stuart just as much as everyone else, but I'm _jealous_ of him at the same time. No one can change the fact that…I was just too late in claiming Damien as my own. That's why I choose to help their relationship: because it's the only way that I can let Damien know…that…I love him more than anyone else. You may be my 'daughter', Eve…but I won't allow you to belittle my feelings…when I've done so much to help you. This perverted old man…defied the natural order…_and I did it all for you! All of you, not a single one more or less than the other!_"___

Sister Eve kneels down, picking up the spare Goldener Phönixkreuz badge at her feet. She stands correctly, observing its lustrous sheen… Despite the fact that she offended her creator, the Sound Master _still_ finds it in his heart to care about her well-being.

"There's no point in talking with you, lassie", the Scotsman's stern voice catches the Amazoness's undivided attention. Sister Eve looks upon the image of an angered Father Andrew: _a sight she's not used to seeing from a man who rarely cracks a frown_. "Put that on when you're ready to live. You don't have to do it now, but you _better_ do it soon. It'd be pretty _stupid_ of you to die right now, when you're so tenaciously set on getting Stuart back. Act 'cock whipped' all you want to, lassie… You know where your home is when you're done. That is…_if you actually manage to survive a battle with a Crusnik_."

_"Thanks…I owe you one."_

"No need in thanking me, Eve", Father Andrew turns on his heel, walking off silently. "A 'perverted old freak' like me comes in handy, especially when it comes to things like this. See you later, lassie…_if_ you even have a later, that is. Methuselahs, we're off."

"But, Father Andrew…" begins the unsure Brother Kevin.

"We're off, now", Father Andrew interrupts, taking to the skies upon a wild airstream.

His Methuselahs follow him…all except for the reluctant Brother Kevin.

"_What_, you're not going to follow them?" arrogantly questions the Amazoness.

"Not until I tell you something."

"_No_, I won't go out on a date with you", she judges.

"Fuck dates! My friend's in danger of being killed!" Kevin's never raised his voice like that to Eve before. The thought of him becoming angry with her is…_petrifying_. "You want to know why men break your heart so badly, Eve? Do you _really_ want to know the truth?"

Sister Eve remains silent, awaiting her angered comrade's answer. The Marksman looks over his left shoulder, showing the Amazoness an emotional set of eyes. Having always seen him in an _unserious_ state, Sister Eve doesn't know how to take Brother Kevin's feelings – _whether to accept them, or to let them play out and fade away as a forgotten memory_.

_"The reason why men hurt you, Eve…" Brother Kevin walks up to her, and holds his friend with brotherly embrace. The Amazoness hears Brother Kevin's worried heartbeat… She also hears him shedding tears for her. "…They hurt you…because they're not willing to cater to your feelings. They're not real men. Eve, little sis, don't kill yourself…I'm begging you, girl. Damien's in another league. If you recklessly start a fight with him…you'll die."_

For the first time, Brother Kevin…_has actually made her smile_. She hears the voice of a man that cares for her. Sure, he belongs to another woman, and he's a father…but that doesn't stop him for caring about his friends.

"I know that I joke around, saying that I flirt with other girls…but I don't", Sister Eve laughs, knowing that he's telling the truth. "I don't do it…because I love her. Joking around and actually doing something are two different things. You actually taught me that – if you love someone, you do everything in your power to show them that they're your world. I hope you don't get offended, but…"

Brother Kevin pulls away from his fellow Methuselah, turning his back to her. Sister Eve has no idea where he's going with this reluctant confession.

"Kev…what's wrong?"

"Nothing…it's nothing", the Marksman mechanically retracts his cybernetic batwings. He walks forward a few steps and activates his ionic jets from a safe distance. "Eve, if this is what you want, I won't stop you. Just…_please_, don't die… If you do, then a lot of people will be upset…even Stuart."

"This is the Donna way: _to fight for what you believe in and for the person that you love._ If it means that we see death, well…that's just something we're willing to risk. Real women love _hard_, not softly. In my heart, Stuart and I are already married… Even if he doesn't accept me, I must still follow the Donna Code. If I _don't_, then…the spirits of my Sisters will be displeased with me. One day, I hope that all of you will be able to understand my feelings. If I don't make it through this…I just want to say one thing to you: _I love you, Big Bro._ You're an _amazing_ friend, and I'm glad that we got to chance to be comrades."

_"Don't talk to me like that – like you're going to die!"_ snaps the emotional Marksman, as his batwings' ionic jets begin trailing the sandy grounds. Sister Eve doesn't react, but she _feels_ the love circulating from her friend's soul. "Don't fight to die; fight to live. You may be an Amazon, but _any_ woman knows how to say 'I give up'. If he's too much for you, don't you _dare_ be a pigheaded bitch and get yourself killed… It'll be really bad…if my son found out that his _godmother_ was killed in the act of battle. So, please…_don't make him cry?_"

"Kevin Kiley III…looks just like his dad", reminisces the Amazoness, envisioning a picture of her godson's adorable little face. "You're right. I can't make that child cry… I promise to come back, for him."

"Thanks…and take care, little sis", the Marksman takes to the skies upon his batwings' ionic jets.

Sister Eve finally realizes that her friends do care for her, after all. She feels guilty for snapping at them with such malevolence… She can't speak to anyone, having manually disabled her communication circuitry. Still, she feels that her thoughts may be able to touch their hearts.

("Everyone, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you guys… I'm not to best friend in the world, am I? I suck, majorly… But, even though you all scolded me the way you did, you still found time to make me laugh a little…in my heart. Heath, you never cease to act like an adorable numbskull. Randy, you're as brutally honest and reserved as ever. Sarona, you're right – you _are_ a real woman; more woman that I can _ever_ dream of being. PJ, you're wise and kindhearted…and I'm lucky to have you as a friend. John, Jayson…Kevin… I'll come back to you guys, I _swear_ it… Father Andrew, I… You really _are_ like the dad I never had. I'm sorry about what I said, and I hope that you find the courage to tell DC how you feel. You know just how I'm feeling right now – _being in love with someone you that can't have…because fate made it that way…_ Thank you for showing that you care in your own little ways. See you around.")

("You better come back to us, you spoiled little princess"), Sister Sarona's voice speaks to Sister Eve within the deepest corridors of her psyche.

("Ronnie, is that you? How can you–?")

("You didn't deactivate your circuitry correctly, silly"), laughs Brother Heath.

("I have to admit it: you're one bad bitch, standing up to a Crusnik"), jokes Brother Jayson.

("You have more balls than all of us men combined"), seconds Brother John.

("Yep, she's packin'"), dittoes Brother Kevin.

("Guys, that's mean!") laughs the Amazoness.

("Just remember what Brother Kevin said: you fight to _win_, regardless of how passionate you are about the battle"), reminds Brother Paul. ("Knowing DC, he won't take your life. But, there's always a possibility that a mistake could happen. You _don't_ want to be on the receiving end of a wave of Crimson Matter, trust me.")

("It could very well kill you, lassie"), seconds Father Andrew. The Sound Master extends his sentiments to the Combat Specialist with warm tone. ("If this is your Amazon way, we understand. It's better to settle a score, than to let it simmer in your heart…and eventually _destroy_ you. We'll be there to watch the battle from afar. Just be sure to make it a good one, lassie.")

("Thanks, guys – for Infinity"), salutes the Amazoness, placing her right fist to her chest.

("For Infinity"), returns her friends.

A wind of hope breezes across the moonlit pasture, fluttering everything in its path. Sister Eve pulls her long locks behind her back with her right hand, looking up to the stars. In her heart, she makes a wish: to have a glorious battle, even if it ends in her defeat. The Amazoness realizes that she can't allow her past experiences to run her life, no matter how painful they may be.

"Stuart, I love you…" she raises her spare badge into her line of vision, examining its vibrant luster. The shine makes her smile… Sister Eve places her spare badge into her jacket's left breast pocket. "…I'll fight this battle for your love, but I won't sacrifice my life for it. If fate decides Damien as your true love, then so be it. I'll back off, knowing that I honored the memory of my fallen Sisters… See you in a few hours…my dearest Romeo."

Sister Eve retreats to her campfire, retrieves her roasted wild boar, and begins dining on its smoldering insides using her hunting knife… All of a sudden, she feels a disturbing aura within the breezing wind.

("What _was_ that?") the Amazoness looks around, wondering what could possibly give off such a malevolent spirit. Knowing her current location, it's probably just a wild animal; however, she can't dismiss it as just that. ("I better watch my back. I can't risk being killed at a time like this.")

_"Well, what are you doing out here by yourself, miss?" the sound of a venomous English accent catches the Amazoness's attention. She turns around, looking upon the forthcoming of three prowling vampires. They sniff the air, and display a mortal craving for the taste of blood. "I smell pig…and deflowered woman. Which one will we partake of, boys: the dead pig, or the helpless damsel?"_

_"I want the whore!" answers the taller vampire to the left._

_"Yeah, she smells…delicious…" seconds the smaller vampire to the right, licking his hungry fangs._

"_Hmph._ Interesting – three _idiots_ come barging in on my dinnertime", Sister Eve stands to her feet, smiling at how audacious the vampiric prowlers are. The beautiful Amazoness draws her cybernetic sidearm, pressing a trigger button that mechanically extends the metallic staff to 1.82 m in length. She holds her weapon in quarterstaff position, sporting a solid battle stance. "I will use my Amazônia martial arts to humble you. Come at me anyway you want."

_"Shut up, bitch!" the center man of the prowlers leads his brothers into battle._

"Know your place!" Sister Eve leaps forward, exhibiting the awe-inspiring dexterity of a Donna. Before the prowlers have any time to react, the Combat Specialist plants her feet into the center man's face, cracking its posterior nasal spine! "Whether alive or dead, men will know their place before the might of an Amazon!"

The graceful Amazoness bounds high into the air, causing a fatal chain reaction – the shattered pieces of the center man's nasal spine puncture a hemorrhage in his brain… Using her aerial momentum, the beautiful warrior woman vaults her legs upward, repositioning herself upside-down. Sister Eve holds her metallic staff towards the ground, and twirls it with inhuman accuracy and speed.

"Even without an Access Card, the wind will never leave my side!" the staff's vigorous twirling excites the air, causing a violent dust devil to form below her. The storm blinds the reaming prowlers, giving Sister Eve a chance to finish them off with stylish execution. "Here I go – _Amazônia Secret Technique: Hidden Fang!_"

Sister Eve curls her upper body inward, successfully repositioning herself upright. She descends…landing directly in the eye of her dust devil. Using her storm as a stealth support, the Amazoness executes the remaining two prowlers with a lethal thrust through the heart! The impact pierces a gash through their chests, bring an end to their immortal lives… The dust devil disburses, and reveals the Amazoness's epic finishing posture.

"Well, that didn't last long", the fallen vampires' bodies spontaneously decompose into celluloid brimstone, and breeze away in the passing wind. Sister Eve retracts her metallic staff, retreating it into her sidearm compartment. The Amazoness checks on her wild boar, realizing that the campfire's been put out by her stormy technique. She laughs, not bothered by what she's done. "_Heh-heh._ Those bastards made my dinner get cold. Oh well… I guess lighting another flame won't hurt. First thing's first – I better go get some more timber."

_The Combat Specialist goes off to gather more firewood, not fearing the dangers of the dark forest._

___A___s she travels through the darkness of the Brownstone Woodlands, Sister Eve realizes that she's literally on her own… When she finally confronts Damien, the determined Amazoness will be faced with a deadly opponent. However, will my fiancé return her proposal…or dismiss it without a single thought?

* * *

><p>In Moldavia, the Archbishop rests in the discomfort of his Lord's bedchamber. He wants to cry, he wants to scream, but his voice wouldn't be able to reach that far… It wouldn't be able to reach the ears of Mother Wendy. He can only think of his wife, even when he's in the midst the most dangerous man in the universe.<p>

Count Valdo reclines in his bed, having just finished seducing his lover for an umpteenth time.

The obscured Master Vampire eyes his prize with covetous glare.

"Are you displeased with my performance, Thaddeus?" questions the Dark Lord.

"No…it was fine, Lord Valdo."

The lustful Count caresses his servant's back with a cold right hand, "You needn't lie to me, boy. I can tell that you're thinking of her. That's very tenacious of you – _harboring feelings for the enemy in the midst of your master…_ I respect those who possess such _admirable_ mettle."

"Thank you, Lord Valdo", Thaddeus can't say anything besides this. He knows, firsthand, how eccentric and _deceptive_ his master can be. If he would've admitted to his true feelings, Count Valdo…_would've killed him_. Instead of telling the truth, the Archbishop plays 'the emotion card', and sparks up another lie. "…You know that _no one_ can make me feel like you do, Master. You send chills up my spine every time you're inside of me. The gates of Heaven pale in comparison to the beauty of your touch, my Lord."

The Count eyes the glass curse of the Crusnik Lord, which has marked the Archbishop with overwhelming emotions. Count Valdo smiles, knowing just what to do in a situation like this – _play innocent and strike when the time is right._

"Really now?" snickers the Dark Lord, licking his hungry fangs. "I say…that makes me smile, hearing such praise from the likes of the Archbishop. You've grown on me quite a bit… Perhaps you're willing…_to take this relationship a little further_."

Count Valdo scoots up against his lover's back, cradling the Archbishop in his cold arms. The moonlight shines upon his godly physique, revealing the lower half of his handsome face. Thaddeus feels his Lord's warm breath venting against his bite mark… He knows what this means – _the Count has a proposal to make_.

"Thaddeus…rule all of Europe with me", the Archbishop looks over his shoulder, gazing into the Master Vampire's golden eyes. He does not flinch, he does not panic… Thaddeus can only attempt to work around the truth, once again. "Did you hear me, Thaddeus? I'm asking you to marry me."

"Master, I–…" the Dark Lord kisses the ecclesiast's bite mark, sending chills down his lover's spine.

_"Accept it, Thaddeus…" he presses his cold lips against the Archbishop's mark, caressing his well-defined body. "…Accept it, my love… You're the only one…that can quench my thirst, and make me feel alive. I know that I've caused you heartache, but I did it to free you."_

"Free me? What do you mean by that, Master?"

_"I freed you from the shackles of death, by making you who you are…" Lord Valdo's lips tickle his lover with sexual vibrations. He sniffs the Archbishop's mark, catching the sweet aroma of his lover's lifeblood. "…Mmm, and your blood is like a sweet potpourri. I must have you in my life, forever. To lose you…would mean a subsequent death for me, my love… I've been alone for thousands of years. Tell me…don't I deserve to be happy?"_

"I…I…I don't know what to say…" the Archbishop's indecisiveness brings a smile to his Lord's face.

_"I see… Well, allow me to help you make up your mind."_

_Thaddeus suddenly feels the painful sensation of his Lord digging his fangs into his bite mark!_

"_Aah!_ Master, why so hard?" shrieks the ecclesiast in a world of pain. The Master Vampire's eyes burn with bloodlust, signifying that he's doing something horrible to his lover. Thaddeus pleads to Master to stop, feeling his body becoming cold by the second. The glass curse in his chest…also fades away. Crimson light flashes from the empty gash, leaving a new layer of skin, muscles, bones and entrails in its place. Despite what his master's doing, this process is the most painful thing that Thaddeus has _ever_ experienced. "Lord Valdo, please, stop this! I'll…do whatever you say! I repent! My Lord, I'm begging you… Please… _PLEASE, STOP IT…!_"

The Master Vampire pulls his fangs out of his servant's mark. The excess blood covering the wound excites, causing the mark to fester into the shape of a spider. Thaddeus feels his neck, suffering the pain of having his body biologically altered. Count Valdo smiles at his servant for enduring the agony of his bite.

"There…_that_ should help you make up your mind", declares the Master Vampire, as the Archbishop's skin decolorizes and becomes white as snow. Count Valdo covetously cradles his lover in his cold arms, rubbing his cheek against the ecclesiast's reformed bite mark. "Now, Thaddeus…have you come to a decision – about you and me eternally joining as one?"

"…Yes…my love", the Archbishop lifts his head up, revealing a set of glowing blood-red eyes. "I will become yours… I pledge my life to you, my Lord…as your servant and spouse."

"Good, good… I hope you enjoy your new life…_my handsome Dietrich_", yes, it's true – the Count has just transformed the loving ecclesiast into an agent of darkness. Thaddeus snaps out of his trance, being released from his Lord's mental control. The Archbishop looks into his master's eyes, wondering what's happened to him. Count Valdo gently lays with his lover, cuddling against him with greedy embrace. "I'm going to enjoy having you as my own. With me, my love, you'll never have to go hungry _or_ feel lonely_…ever again_."

It seems as if the Archbishop has just suffered the same fate as my Great-grandfather. Eventually, we'll meet up with him… But, I'm afraid that our second encounter will be just as emotionally wrenching as the first.

* * *

><p>"Here we are – grand ol' Brownstone City!" announces the excited ginger, following Natalie, Theodore and John through the city limits. For the first time, Yuvraj has joined our part of the party. He seems comfortable, reading his copy of a famous Hindi novella. Stephen becomes curious about the book. "What ya reading, fella? Haven't seen your face rise since we left New Halen."<p>

_"Godaan – a novella by Munshi Premchand that revolves around characters representing the various sections of ly. It's a good read. I'm actually almost finished with it."_

"Must be, the way you're so buried in its pages", Damien smiles.

_"If you're interested, I can find an English text for you. It's pretty interesting to read, if you're one who appreciates the beauty of eastern culture."_

"You help us appreciate your culture every day, with your refined character and poise", my complement brings a smile to the Time Bender's face.

"Likewise", he returns.

All of a sudden, I develop the feeling that we're being followed… It's as if eyes are watching us, no matter where we go. It's an eerie feeling, and I don't like it. Looking at my friends, they seem to sense the same thing – Steve's sporting a serious face, and Raj is looking out the window, scanning the area with his existence. Damien appears to be harboring similar emotions.

"Do you guys feel it, too?"

"Yeah, Stu…someone's on our ass", confirms the Earth Master.

"And whoever it is…has a pretty impressive existence on them", seconds the Time Bender.

"_Ugh…_don't tell me we have to fight _again?_" sighs my flustered fiancé, palming his face in a calm fit.

"Leave it up to us to have 'shit luck', eh?" Stephen laughs wholesomely, striking similar sentiments from the rest us. "Ah, who cares – as long as we get to have fun, right?"

"My thoughts exactly, ginger", I place my hands behind my head, lounging just a bit. "I say let the idiots gather by the number… I'm due a good fight – it'll be good exercise for Paradise City, anyway."

"Well, someone's becoming quite cocky", Damien giggles.

_"No, not yet…that's for the bedroom, my Sweets."_

Our friends mock choking, reminding me that they're in our presence. Damien giggles once more, and so do the others. I feel a bit embarrassed, but I go along with the fun.

_"What are you old fossils chuckling at? Do I amuse you?"_

"More or less, Mr. Romance", giggles the Time Bender.

_"That's for the bedroom, my Sweets', Stephen mocks me, making his voice lower a notch._

_"You sound like you're pushing a good one in the loo. Stop trying to mock me."_

"Boys, boys – enough with the giggly catfight", calmly demands my boy with tranquilizing verse. Damien places his right hand on my left leg, catching my attention. "I think your voice is much more handsome, dear. It doesn't sound like you're backed-up from eating a ton of spicy food, like _someone_ driving the car."

Stephen chokes on his pride, making everyone else laugh. Damien leans forward and lightly pinches at the Earth Master's right cheek, tickling him just a bit.

"Stevie's the only huggy buddy I have, right?"

"_Aw_, sugar tits – now let me drive", the Irishman's sarcastic sense of humor makes everyone laugh.

"Oh Stevie, you're so adorably vulgar sometimes", Damien sits back, noticing that someone's hopping across the rooftops to the left. Everyone else sees the same thing. "Who's that _daring_ woman? Talk about an impressive display of dexterity."

"I don't know, but she looks awfully familiar", I observe, recognizing the defined build of the lady daredevil. "That shape…and that hair. Where have I seen her before?"

I didn't know it at first glance, but that's actually Eve… Having passed up her campsite on the way to Brownstone City – _which we were totally oblivious_ of – the Amazoness took the liberty of tailing us via the city's rooftops. From building to building, she follows us, dancing through the air with the greatest of ease.

As we enter the brick-paved streets of Slash Avenue, the daring beauty leaps from the highest building and lands atop of a streetlight's pole. The daredevil warrior woman allows the wind to brush against her, exhibiting impeccable balance and resistance. She watches our party drive deeper into the city, looking for the nearest petrol station.

("When they stop to rest, I'll be there…waiting"), Sister Eve leaps into the air, soaring through the skies with the greatest of ease. ("This is it – the moment of truth. Stuart, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me… This will mark the first time…that you get to see me in my _cruelest_ state.")

* * *

><p>"That'll be £250, miss", Natalie's resourcefulness led us directly to the nearest pump. The Head Mother hands the clerk a precise amount of cash. The male clerk receives the monies, rings it up and hands the Canadian beauty her change. "Thank you, and enjoy the rest of your trip. Hope to see you, again."<p>

"By the way, do you know of any local hotels?" she asks.

"There's a Hilton down the street. Just make a left on Stradlin Blvd., you can't miss it."

Natalie hands the young man a £300 note, "Thanks for your trouble, kid. Go buy yourself something nice."

_"Oh, thank you", the clerk humbly receives his tip with a joyous smile._

"No problem, kid. The Infinity Radicals are with you. Have a nice day, um… What's your name?"

"It's _Prince_…Prince Nelson", they shake hands.

"Natalie, it's been a pleasure. Hope to see you again, kid."

"You too, Ms. Natalie", the Head Mother exits the store, leaving a smile on the young clerk's face. Prince happily observes his first tip, after having worked in the gas station for just a couple of hours. He excites, feeling that this job experience is going to be a pleasant one. "Lucky me! My first tip – and from a Radical, nonetheless… I'm _so_ having a good streak of luck today!"

Having used his Visa to debit his bank account, Stephen's already near a full tank. Damien stands next to the car, allowing his buns to get some relief. I feel him – no one likes to get "car seat bum". I've suffered through that _numbing_ pain myself. It's quite _uncomfortable_, if I must say so myself.

Natalie joins everyone, giving us word of mouth, "The clerk said there's a Hilton on Stradlin Blvd., just up ahead to the left. We're going to camp there for the night."

"_Oooh_, I love Hiltons", delights my boy. "They always have the best room service."

"Not to mention the swimming pool and the jacuzzi", comments Father John, stepping out of Natalie's car. He walks towards the store, looking to ask for the key to the restroom. "I'll be back. Nature's calling."

"Take your time", wishes Brother Theodore, pumping the gas for his girlfriend.

"Looks like someone can't hold his liquid", teases Father Yuvraj. The intelligent Punjabi-Canadian continues reading his novella, entering the final chapter. "I told him about those flavored waters, but he wouldn't listen to me. Carbonated beverages tend to make you leak more than pure water."

I steps out of the backseat to get a good view of the area. At first glance, Brownstone City retains a lot of its _Old English modeling_ – lampposts; brick-paved streets; glazed park benches; the works. It reminds me of home… Just looking at this place makes me a little nostalgic.

Damien walks to my side, "Something caught your eye, Daddy?"

"This place reminds me of Preston…a bit _too_ much. It's kind of creepy."

"It _is_ pretty nice out here", Natalie seconds, joining me in gazing out at the buildings up ahead. She notices the Hilton in the distance. "I think I can see the hotel. You can get a good view of the 'Hilton Hotels & Resorts' sign from here. From what I see, it doesn't look too shabby at all. Oh well, _any_ clean bed with a soft mattress will do for me. I'm so tired, you might as well tie a _bridle_ on me and call me _'Seabiscuit'_."

"Aye, I second that", Stephen stretches, ready to hit the hay himself. His gas tank is full. The Irishman takes the nozzle out, places it back into the petrol pump, and retreats to his driver's seat. "We've been cruising the countryside since 5:30 AM, and it's already been _4_ hours. I hope they have some rooms available. The last thing we need it to be turned down due to excessive occupancy. I'll _raise_ _hell_ if that's the case."

"Now don't you go causing trouble for us, Stevie", Damien smiles.

"Aw, I'm just kidding around, fella. No harm done, right?"

All of a sudden, a spontaneous surge of wind crosses our path from the west… Sister Eve was listening in on our conversation from the station's rooftop. That was _her_ using the wind to leap from the petrol station to the Hilton Hotel's rooftop in a _single_ bound… We couldn't sense her existence from our position, better yet…_we didn't even know she was anywhere around_. That's saying a lot – _her health's not up to par, especially after engaging in a series of daredevil acrobatics._

"_Phew_, talk about drafty weather", jests the observational Youth Minister.

"I wonder what caused that spontaneous air surge", ponders the curious Father Yuvraj.

"Could be an existence", guesses the Head Mother. Natalie notices Father John returning from his restroom break. She decided to crack a joke with him. "Got it all out, sport?"

"To the last drop, thank you very much."

"Sounded like _the Niagara_ from out here", Stephen teases.

_"Oh, whatever", everyone laughs, as Father John retreats to his spot in Natalie's backseat. He buckles his seatbelt, and begins lounging. "Ah, I can't wait to get to a hotel room. I'm going to call Mel as soon as I get there."_

Oh, that's right – John's soon to be a father. I guess a little "baby talk" won't hurt.

"How's the babe coming along?" I ask.

"Just great. Mel's a healthy mom, at least that's what I've been told."

"Many good wishes to your family, my friend", I extend, placing a smile on the expectant dad's face.

"I can't wait to see that healthy little sugar's face when he's born", delights Damien, resting his back against Stephen's car. "Be sure to call us if you need someone to watch our godson. It's going to be wonderful, helping raise your little bundle of joy."

"Count us in, too, fella", Stephen seconds for everyone else.

"Thanks, guys…that means a lot. Mel would be honored."

Theodore finishes filling up his tank, "We're all set. Let's head out."

The filling inlets are closed. We return to our respective seats and buckle up. Our drivers start their engines, shift gears into "Drive", and take off for the Hilton Hotel & Resort on Stradlin Blvd. Sister Eve's waiting for us to arrive… She's bound to make her move upon on first sight.

("Wind…be at my side"), she silently prays.

With her metallic sidearm at hand, the beautiful Amazoness waits patiently. Damien snuggles up against me to my left, and I hold him close with my adjacent arm… As of now, that nightmare I had earlier seems like a faint memory…but I know that it's still a potential threat.

_I just hope that terrible vision fails to come true._

* * *

><p>"Good morning, and welcome to the Hilton", greets the front desk clerk – a beautiful Englishwoman of African descent. "My name's Tamia. How may I be of service to you?"<p>

"I'd like 5 suites, please", I answer, retrieving my _Infinity branded MasterCard_ from my pocketbook. Natalie doesn't want us spending too much money, so the Head Mother insisted that we use a few of the company's funds for the time being. I hand her the credit card, and cradle my boy in my right arm… Hmm_…how curious._ For some reason, I recognize this lady's face. "Excuse me, miss… Have we met before? You look awfully familiar, and I never forget a face."

She takes one good look at the name on my credit card and nearly freaks out… We look at each other, like we've just seen a ghost walking through the lobby.

"Wait a second…are you by any chance…Tamia Washington from Wales?" I guess, causing the lady to hop up and down in joy. My face lights up. "Tammy…? I don't believe this – meeting you so suddenly!"

"Blue, oh my god, what did you drink – _Overnight Instant Grow?_" we share a moment of laughter, striking my boy with a bit of confusion. My old friend fixes her hair, behaving like she's standing in front of the Prince. "Oh my god, I look like hell. I knew I should've fixed myself up a bit more this morning."

"Are you kidding me, dear? You look _stunning_."

"_Um_, an obviously you do", she jokes, motioning her left hand towards my boy. She properly shakes hands with Damien, showing her friendly side. "It's a pleasure to meet you, love. My name's Tamia – Blue's big sis from another miss. Everybody calls me 'Tammy'. And you are, handsome?"

_"Damien Crosse – Blue's fiancé, and likewise."_

Just hearing that I'm engaged is music to her ears. She begins dancing and fooling around, making us laugh. That girl – always was a basket case and a half. It's no wonder she won 1st place in _every_ Drama Club event.

"This is…?" Tamia's flamboyant attitude brightens our morning. This crazy dame – always going overboard when it comes to expressing herself. "Oh my _god_, Blue! This has to be the most _heavenly_ little number I've seen you with. _Nice_ _catch_, if I must say."

"So, what do you do here?" I ask my old friend, as she continues ringing us up.

"I'm the Co-Manager of this branch. I'm just covering the front desk to get in some overtime. I was supposed to leave an hour ago, but I'm _glad_ I didn't – _running into my old chum and all_."

"When you're free, would you like to join us for a little luncheon?" I extend, receiving a nod and an accepting hum from the Nubian beauty. That's music to my ears. "Splendid! We've _got_ to catch up on things, sis."

"_And_ I've found you boys a few suites on the 5th floor", she reports, filling in the coordinates to process our keycards. "Our suites come with a jacuzzi tub, free Wi-Fi, two beds and 700 channels. Room service is 24-hours, charges build daily, and you don't have to worry about cleaning. Our housekeepers will do that for you… _And_, I'll be done with the keycards in a sec – _if_ this blooming system decides to _pump the gas_ for once."

Her explosive sense of humor tickles us. Tamia's always been this way: _outspoken and full of laughter_. When I was a pup, Tammy stood by me as a support system. She was there for me during rough times.

I was the _only_ boy at Wareham High with a dame as a best friend. While every other fellow was trying to _nail_ her, I was talking about the latest gossip with her; sharing opinions about the weekend shows on the telly; talking late nights about our adolescent sexual conquests.

People would tease us, calling us _"The Girlfriends"_. It was mainly a stab at me, being that I wasn't desperate enough to take advantage of my friendship. Truth is: Tamia and I are _related_ through foster care. She was adopted by my Uncle Joe and my Auntie Sam at the age of 9. We grew up as cousins _and_ friends. We have a bond that I'd love to share with my fiancé. At first glance, these two seem to like each other a lot, and it's only been…about 3 minutes into the conversation.

Tamia finishes processing our keycards, "_Now_ we're in business. It's about _bloody_ time."

She hands us our keycards with a smile. I gladly receive the electronic keys and my MasterCard. Tamia notices our friends lounging near the waiting area.

"Are they with you guys?" she asks, observing their fatigued body language.

"Yeah, those are our friends. They're pretty tuckered out – we _all_ are, actually. Travelling long distances tend to wear you down after a while."

"What's the occasion?" Tamia noses.

"Road trip", I fib, as Natalie approaches us right on cue.

"Oh, your lady-friend's headed over here", she smiles, noticing the Head Mother approaching the desk. Tamia remains professional, cordially welcoming her customer. "Good morning, miss. I see we're ready to call it 'quits' for the day, huh?"

"Girl, you have _no_ idea", jokes the social vampiress, receiving her keycard from Damien. She turns to the boys and gives them a hand signal – an inner waving of her right hand. The boys begins rallying to head to their rooms. Natalie suddenly remembers something and briefs us on my Great-grandfather's progression. "I've got _good_ news – Fred's doing pretty well."

"Is he now?" I smile.

"Yeah, Drew sent me an update a minute ago. His brain waves are almost fully synced."

All this talk about "brain waves", "syncing", and "progression" gets to Tamia. She's always been nervous about these things – hospitals and operations tend to make her jumpy.

"Oh, goodness, did something happen?" questions the concerned Co-Manager.

I look to my old friend with a smile, fibbing just this once to her, "One of my grandparents had an accident. He's doing great. We're actually on our way to see him."

"Be sure to give him my regards. I'll be praying for your grandpa's total restoration… And, about that luncheon – I'll be free at 1 PM. Let me give you guys my number."

I pull out mobile, switch to the keypad and keep an ear open, "Ready when you are, dear."

"074-0893-4229", she recites.

"Alright", I fill in the numbers, saving them in my directory. My mobile is placed back into my right side pocket. I give my friend a promise to reunite. "I'll ring you up at 1 on the dot, sis. I'm not one to let fortune pass me by, especially if it's reconnecting with a positive person from my past. You have a good rest of your morning. See you in a few, dear."

"Likewise, Blue", she waves to us, as we journey off towards our suites. "Have a nice stay!"

* * *

><p>Everyone's resting in the comfort of their suites. Damien and I have our room; Theodore and Natalie have theirs; the others boys have separate suites… I'm actually getting used to it just being us – travelling all of Europe together, viewing the <em>amazing<em> countryside on a daily basis. What makes it all the more better…is that I have my lover there with me. When this is all over, I'm going to miss it… But, the memory will never die.

Though some grim and terrifying things have happened, the good has outweighed the bad. Right now, Damien and I are looking out at the view of Brownstone City from our balcony… You see? It's time like this – cradling my fiancé in my arms before a grand view – that I'll sit back and reminisce about. I don't want to remember the Church, Infinity, the war, the bloodshed, the pain, the sorrow… I just want to recall the happy times.

_More than anything…I just want everyone to finally find peace; for everyone…to be happy._

"Stuey, what are you thinking about?" questions my boy, looking up into my emotional eyes.

"Good memories to come, _and_ some current ones."

"I like Tamia – she's _really_ nice, and funny too", Damien turns around in my arms and cradles against me.

"Quite the little charmer she is, always was", I give my boy a kiss on his forehead, making his giggle. "But _you_, my little Sugar Smacks… You and I…_are about to have some fun_."

I begin showering him with playful pecks, making Damien laugh. I find his "sweet spot", and begin gnawing on it… My warm jaws cause my fiancé to become sexually aroused. I can feel his fingers venturing my back, pulling just a bit at my shirt.

"Oh, Stuey…you're so naughty…" a spontaneous gust of wind ruins the moment, causing us to lose our balance. I hold onto my fiancé, shielding him from any harm. All of a sudden, the wind stops… Damien and I stand up, looking upon the image…_of Sister Eve standing atop of our balcony's table, with her retractable sidearm in hand_. She eyes us like a preying eagle, ready to claim its next meal. "Eve, where did _you_ come from? Aren't you supposed to be with Mother Wendy?"

The beautiful Amazoness smiles, chuckling just a bit. She hops down from the table, approaches us and displays an unfamiliar boldness.

"Damien, Stuart, I must do this…" Sister Eve pauses, lowers her head, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "…It's a custom for us Amazons to engage in things like this."

"What is it, Eve?" I ask.

"…As a member of the Donna Tribe…" the proud warrior woman lifts her head, opening her eyes to Damien. "…DC, I _must_ challenge you for Stuart's love."

_"What the deuce…?" I exclaim in outrage._

"Eve, you aren't _serious_ are you?" seconds my fiancé. "This is crazy talk, girl! I'm sorry, but I _refuse_ fight you for something so…_petty_."

"I see…" Sister Eve closes her eyes, lowering her head once again. "…Well, I guess that leaves only one other option. According to the Tenets…_I must force you to do battle with me!_"

"What are you–…?" before I can finish my sentence, the wind violently excites, causing only Damien to be lifted off of the ground and high into air. I look up, attempting to say something…but the wind's much too strong for me to utter a word. "No… Damien! Eve… Stop!"

The Blood Stone on Damien's metallic bracelet begins to excite, shining with a vibrant crimson glow… Sister Eve can see the light shining from outside her storm. It's a miraculous sight – the veiled luster of Damien's pre-transformation. _And then…his voice epically sounds from the eye of the storm._

**_"Embrace the afterlife! Crossroads!"_** _my fiancé's activation call causes the tornado to break from his body, trailing away in the gust of his crimson territory. Damien's now battle-ready, sporting his full Crusnik form. He examines his challenger with furious glowing red eyes. Sister Eve tilts her head at her opponent, impressed by his substantial power increase… My fiancé speaks to her with a displeased dual-toned voice. "Why have you done this, Eve? Have you lost your goddamned mind…?"_

"Let's take this to the air, shall we?" Sister Eve manipulates the wind, putting her spiritual connection to the atmosphere to good use. My fiancé shields his eyes with his forearms, nearly being blinded by the sting of the warrior woman's merciless storm. Eve gives the atmosphere a command. "Winds, carry him to a safe place!"

_Once again, the wind violently excites!_

Damien is carried away by the random storm, being shoved several _meters_ away to the west. The rabid Amazoness chases after her opponent, until Damien regains his aerial momentum by flapping his batwings. Sister Eve arrives, stopping herself by manipulating the air currents.

"Eve, stop this!" I've successfully chased them down, riding upon a random airstream. The Amazoness refuses to acknowledge my presence, keeping her back faced to me. Why that rude little–…! _"Damn you, woman, look at me when I'm talking to you!"_

"I don't expect for you to understand, Stuart", her sudden, calm reaction somehow tranquilizes my anger. Damien and I pay close attention to what she has to say. "This is _our_ way – the way of us warrior women. It's an honor and a privilege for an Amazon to fight for the one that she loves. Also, it's a way for us to settle a score, before it spirals out of hand… I want an honorable match with you, Damien. You're the _only_ _one_ who can help me exercise this demon; this lowly _imp_ that keeps chewing away at my spirit… I don't hate you, I'm not angry either. This is just something that I _have_ to do…_to honor my fallen Sisters, and to ease my pain._"

"Eve…I get it…" Damien holds out his right hand, biologically summoning a staff of Crimson Matter into his grasp. My fiancé holds his pole weapon in quarterstaff position, accepting the challenge."…Because your reasons are noble, I gladly accept. I'll fight you, seriously and honorably."

My eyes widen, realizing that this…_this is how it happens!_

Damien and…_Eve?_

Wait a second now… That figure in my nightmare…

_No…no, it can't be! Oh God…that figure…was Eve? Matching the two of them together, they're absolutely identical… Eve…this battle will claim her life!_

_Damien, don't fight her! …Damn it, Stuart, open your fucking mouth already!_

_Why can't I speak? Why can't I move?_

What's _wrong_ with you, Stuart – _have you fucking lost your sense of mobility…?_ Come on body, flinch or _something_… God, I'm _frozen_… _The fear of losing someone… I CAN'T TAKE IT!_

"Eve…stop…" I plead, trying my best not to cry. The Amazoness looks over her left shoulder at me, wanting to return my sentiments. However, she's unable to – for the honor of her Sisters. Once again, I attempt to talk her out of this. "…Eve, don't do this. I had…a _horrible_ nightmare… In that nightmare, you _died_ in my arms…and Damien was hurt… And…he was _furious_ with me. He blamed it _all_ on me, and I couldn't sleep last night because of it… Please, Eve, I'm _begging_ you…just stop?"

The tenacious Amazoness turns her back to me with a humored smile.

"I've _never_ known you to lose to your own fears, Stuart", my ex's words spark my attention, opening my eyes. The tears flow, trailing in a river of surprise. As a woman, the Combat Specialist makes me a promise. "I _promise_…to fight with honor; to fight to win, not to die. The _first_ _one_ to submit is the winner; pure, _unadulterated_ combat; no cheating whatsoever. Rest assured, Stuart…_no one's going to die here_."

From the look on Damien's face…he's all for it. There's nothing I can do nothing to stop this – they won't listen to me, even if I begged and _pleaded_ to them. Our friends are peering through their windows, shocked to see a lone Methuselah standing against my boy… All, except for the Head Mother.

_Though no one else can hear her…for some reason…I can hear Natalie speaking to me in my head._

("I knew it'd come to this"), she doesn't flinch, showing no signs of fluctuating emotion. However, she's just as concerned about this battle as everyone else. ("The Donna Tribe's _Afrodita [Aphrodite] Trial _– the ultimate test of love amongst warriors. It's unavoidable… If Damien backs out, Eve will hunt him down and _force_ him to fight her. This is serious… Stuart, the only thing you can do…_is get out of the way._")

_("Nattie…I…")_

("Stuart, please…stand back for your own good"), I can't ignore Natalie's kind voice. She sounds much too sure of things… Trusting in her intuition, I ride the airstreams away from the battle area. Natalie blinks once, smiling afterwards. ("This is the right thing to do, Stu. Someday…you'll understand.")

_("…Yeah…someday…")_

Watching from afar, I can see two warring hearts – one filled with the urge to prove its love; the other, a spirit willing to accept the honorable methods of the other. There's no avoiding it… I _have_ to let them fight, in order for Eve to exercise her demons, and for the betterment of my relationship.

_It's in Damien's Crusnik blood: the hunger for combat and the willingness to accept a noble challenge._

However, will this mean the manifestation of my tragic premonition?

Will Eve die because of this battle?

Will Damien never love me again because of it?

My feelings are hanging by a thread. I'm not sure if I can stomach watching this… It's the hardest thing that I've _ever_ had to do – observing the clash of two people that I care about. It's too much… _God, please…I beg of you…don't let my nightmare come true... Please?_

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed…continues…_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme 2 – "Colors" by Utada Hikaru)<em>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Up Next: Chapter 18 – The Boy is Mine, Verse 2)<em>**


	19. Chapter 18: The Boy is Mine, Verse 2

_**BLOOD/Night**_

* * *

><p>Time seems to have a mysterious effect on relationships. Looking back on how we met, the seed that Damien and I have planted has <em>blossomed<em> into a beautiful rose… I remember that night: _when Andrew convinced me to set foot in a nightclub on the outskirts of Chelsea._

**_***Flashback to Chelsea, London 2005…***_**

The music was blasting, the energy was high… It looked like a "strum lit circus". I liked the scene, but it was much too _loud_ for my taste. Andrew seemed to be enjoying himself, however; making a fool out of himself, flirting with every random skirt that passed by… Just my dumb luck, I guess.

"What kind of hellhole did you bring me to?" I asked, speaking over the energetic crowd.

"This is the hottest club in town, the New Deal", Andrew answered, as we walked further into the club.

"The New Deal…? What's so _'new'_ about a bunch of puppies shaking their tushies on the dance floor?"

"Come on, man, just mix and mingle", he pushes, being interrupted by a hot little passerby. His sexual impulses got the best of him, and he began eying her down. "Oooh! Looks like I'm ahead of ya, Stu. You better start making friends, bro. You only live once, right?"

"Is _that_ your excuse for cruising the club scene – _and_ dragging me along with you?"

The lady approaches him, pulling the flirtatious Scot to the dance floor.

"_Heh-heh._ See you in a bit, Stu", he wishes in aroused laughter.

"What a playboy", I venture towards the bar to get a drink.

I didn't notice him walking in with a set of lady-friends, but I could smell "fate" in the air. My heart told me to turn around, and I did just that. The barmaid approached me – a young Goth in her early 20s.

"Name your poison, mate", she extended, speaking with a rough Australian accent.

"Give me a glass of your finest rum, on the rocks."

"Coming right up", the Australian beauty began preparing my drink. As that happened, I felt someone heading in my direction… It was him – _Damien_ dressed in casual street gear. When I first looked at him, I thought he was one of those _uncouth_ _American_ _ghetto_ _girls_; not categorizing _all_ of them in the same class, of course. The way he was shaped; his long, flamboyantly colored hair; his posture and attitude; _everything_ matched. As he began mingling with a young male socialite, dancing hypnotically with him, the bartender placed my drink on the counter. "There we go. Bacardi on the rocks, for the cutie with the pretty face."

"Many thanks, love", I turned around in my chair, and indulged in the sweet taste of my cold drink.

"So, what brings you to the New Deal?" she asked. "Looking for a hook-up, mate?"

"It was my co-worker's idea, _not_ mine. To be frank with you, I don't really care for the club scene."

"Same here. This is just my second job."

"What do you do for a day job?" I asked.

"I'm a mechanic – about to get that big promotion, at least that's what I was told."

"Are you any good?"

"Best little fixer-upper in town", the Gothic beauty leaned against the counter, and shared her experiences with me. "I can fix just about anything: cars, machines, TVs, computers…even _feelings_ if I worked hard at it."

"Have you ever tried fixing the past; the present; the future?" I jested.

"Yeah, and that ain't easy…especially when you've _served_ a few years behind bars", confessed the barmaid, giving off shamed body language.

"You've been locked up before, Ms., um… _What's_ your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Natalie Labraglia – call me _'Lee'_… Yeah, I _was_ locked up… Two years, and I hated _every_ single day of it. Makes me regret hanging out with those gangster types."

"Well, no one's slate is _totally_ clean", my understanding words brought a smile to Lee's adorable face.

"Now, why is a nice mate like _you_ walking around single?"

"I choose to be right now", I placed my glass on the counter, having finished my cold drink.

"Oh, that won't do, mate. You need to share that loving with somebody… What's your name, handsome?"

"Stuart Bennett – call me 'Stu'."

Lee noticed Damien approaching the bar, and whispered into my ear, "I think you should give _him_ a chance. That's one of our regulars – really nice little mate. Go on, Stu…mingle a little."

Lee patted my shoulder, pepping me up for "my destined angel's landing".

Damien approached the bar, moving with mesmerizing stride. I _still_ thought he was a girl at first…I'm confessing that right now. I mean, look at him – _the long hair, the buxom frame, the pretty face…_ But then, I saw _an Adam's Apple…_ I didn't know _what_ to say _or_ think, looking at such a strikingly _beautiful_ man.

"My friend would like a White Russian, dear", he ordered of the barmaid, speaking with an absorbing English accent. My pride was _broken_ when he spoke… The person that I thought to be _a_ _hood rat_ actually turned out to be a fellow Englishman; of rather _refined_ character, as well. When he looked my way and saw me staring at him, he blinked with seductive flair. "What's wrong, kissy face? Never seen a 'glam boy' before?"

"Sorry…you're just…_really_ pretty", Lee cynically choked when that cute little line slipped out of my mouth.

"And _you_, my big, _handsome_ sugar…" he approached me, pinched my cheek and gave it a kiss. "…have to be the _sweetest_ kissy face I've seen in this town. Thanks a million, love."

He kissed my cheek… Being that I'm human, or so I thought at the time, I reacted as anyone would.

"No problem", I blushed.

My reaction made him giggle, "You're just too cute! What's your name, dear?"

"Stuart Bennett…and you?"

"Damien Crosse", Lee brought the requested drink to her customer. Damien received it, looking to me with an entrancing smile. "It was nice meeting you, Stuart... See you around, kissy face."

"Likewise, and take care", I allowed him to leave, without even asking for his phone number. Lee shot me a displeased look – one that was so _dooming_, it could peel the paint off of a brick wall. "What are you staring at me like that for, Lee?"

"I'm trying to figure out where you left your _set_, that's all."

"Are you mocking me, you silly barmaid?" I laughed.

"No, just a little tough love. Take it from me, mate: if you let things pass you up, they pass you up. I'm telling you, Stu – that guy's _perfect_ for you. I can see you two going from LTR to marriage."

"How do you figure that?"

"Because he's the perfect guy", she began counting her fingers, naming the ways that Damien's _perfect_ for me from the top of her head. "He's well-mannered and polite; he's hip to the latest trends; career-oriented and competitive from what I hear; not to mention, he's one _super-hot_ mate."

I took another look at him… At the time, he was dancing with his intoxicated companion. But then, something bad happened… They got into an argument on the dance floor, causing a scene.

"What's that hammered fucker's problem?" I asked Lee, pointing to Damien's friend.

"That's Damien's boyfriend – a wealthy _shithead_ named Robert Marley; locals call him 'Bob'. He comes here, gets drunk and causes a scene. DC usually doesn't come here with him; only with his gal-pals."

"DC, you say?"

"Yeah, that's his nickname", Lee smiled, before we noticed Damien's lady-friends approaching the argument. Lee nudged me. "Go over there and stop it, mate."

"Huh? Why _me_? Doesn't this establishment have security?"

Lee pointed to the front door, "Does _that_ look secure to you?"

Looking at the front door, I can see her point: the "security guard" is occupied with trying to _soil his oats_ with a female socialite.

"_Seriously_, he's flirting on the job?" Lee laughed at how displeased and annoyed I sounded. "Shouldn't he be paying attention to the scene? _Geez_, what a pain."

"Go on, Stu", pushed the Gothic barmaid.

"Alright, alright – I'm on it", I submitted, leaving my stool.

And then, something happened that seriously ticked me off…

…"Bob" had the _nerve_ to put his hands on Damien, as well as his lady-friends. At that moment, the only thing I could do was walk up to the drunken bastard, snatch him up with my left hand, turn him around and _sock_ him in the chops with a good right straight. Bob hit the floor, and looked up to me with a bloodied jaw. I folded my arms, looking down at the _prick_ with furious eyes.

"Sorry to butt in, but we'll have _none_ of that this evening", my strong, intimidating tone petrified the abusive boyfriend with fear. "This floor is for _dancing_, not violence. Learn some manners, will you?"

"Mr. Bennett, where did you come from?" gasped the surprised glam boy.

"I saw this _punk_ putting his hands on you", I looked up to my future lover with a dashing smile. Damien blushed, not knowing how to react to my act of heroism. "I couldn't stand back and watch you get hurt. This is a nightclub, _not_ a backstreet dogfight. And I don't fancy men who _dare_ to put their hands on lovely women, either."

Bob pulled a switchblade from his left pocket, attempting to stab me in the leg. However, before he could make a move on me, I _kicked_ him in the skull and knocked him unconscious. Damien and his lady-friends were shocked, having witnessed the fall of an intoxicated brute.

I looked into Damien's eyes, walked up to him and held his hands. His lady-friends didn't know _what_ to think; they could only blush, admiring how handsome I was to them… And then, I extended my heart to him.

"Mr. Crosse, I don't want you to ever feel that kind of pain. _None_ of you deserve to be hurt by the likes of him. I know I sound like a corny hero, but…I can't help the way that I feel. _Please_, my little one…if you will have me… I _promise_ to always make you smile. The only tears you'll cry are those of _happiness_, not of sadness or fear."

"Mr. Bennett…I don't know what to say…" he blushed, before I hushed him with a passionate kiss.

The girls began hooting and howling, behaving like a joshing sitcom audience. I pulled my lips away, and held his head close to my heart. He looked up into my eyes, beholding a crystalline blue ocean of sincerity… I didn't want to see him hurt anymore. As a man, I wanted to see him _smile_…and I was _more_ than willing to take responsibility for that.

_And then, it happened – the beginning of a beautiful relationship._

"Mr. Bennett…I don't think I'm ready for a relationship right now, especially after tonight."

"Would you like to exchange phone numbers?" I extended, receiving a smile and a nod.

"I'd like that. Thank you…for helping us, Mr. Bennett."

"Oh, come now…'Mr. Bennett' is my father", I joked, making my new friends laugh. Their charming nature made me smile. "I want _all_ of you to call me 'Stuart', not 'Mr. Bennett'. I'm 25 for Pete's sake; don't make me feel _old_ before my time."

My open-mindedness made them smile… And, for the first time, Damien gave me a hug… I looked down to him, and realized how _small_ he was compared to me. I placed my arms around his shoulders, looked to our female companions and extended a generous offer.

_"How about I treat you all to dinner?"_

"You'd _really_ do that?" asked one of the lady-friends, arching her eyebrow.

"Yes – a celebratory gesture, to your 'new beginning'."

"Oooh! DC, you need to _keep_ this one", flamboyantly jests another of his lady-friends.

Her witty approval tickled me a little, "I'm glad you approve, miss."

"My name isn't _'miss'_, it's T-Boz."

"And I'm Left-Eye", continues the middle friend.

"And _I'm_ Chilli", dittoes the leftward friend.

_"So get it right, boo-boo", the girls snapped their fingers in a triangle._

"Well, forgive my rudeness, T-Boz, Left-Eye, Chilli. I _do_ hope we get along."

"Are you here with anyone, Stuart?" Damien asked.

I peered over at Andrew, who was sitting with a group of easily impressed female club-goers. After being ditched by him, what _else_ was I supposed to do – cater to his feelings? I think _not_.

"No, I'm here by myself", I answered, placing my arm around Damien's shoulders. I led the group out of the club for the evening. The bruised Bob Marley was left lying on the floor, drunk and unconscious. "Let's enjoy the town, shall we? I saw a few restaurants around the corner on the way here. Perhaps we can go there."

"I want seafood!" cheered T-Boz.

"Oooh! That sounds _good_ right about now", agreed Left-Eye.

"Damien, are you game?" asked Chilli.

"Sure, I could go for a nice plate of fried crab", he giggled.

"Me too, Damien. Perhaps we could share a drink while we're at it."

"I'd like that…_Stuey_", he giggled.

"_Stuey?_ Is that what you're calling me, now?"

"I like it…it's cute, like you", he clung to me with warming arms.

"_Hmph._ Stuey, eh? Well…I can get used to a pet name like that."

"I'm glad you like it, sweetie", he pulled me down by my right arm, and laid a big kiss on my cheek.

I stood up, enjoying the feel of his lips.

"Well, aren't you a bowl of sugar", I joked, making my lover giggle.

Andrew had no idea that I left, until he was ready to go home. He called me on my mobile and _grinded my gears_ for leaving him behind. We got into a minor argument, and we didn't speak for a few days. As time progressed, we realized how silly we were for fighting. I soon parted ways with Chelsea, sailing off into the vast oceans of my career. Damien and Andrew came along with me. We were an inseparable little trio, until our careers alienated Andrew from the group. However, we eventually reunited with him…_as you may already know_.

**_***…Back to the present***_**

Now that I think about it, on that night…my conscience _told_ me that I was going to meet my soul mate. I didn't know _who_ it was, and I was afraid to find out the truth. Perhaps _that's_ the reason why I was so reluctant, not wanting to mingle at first… I'm _glad_ I opened my heart to him. Damien's been _everything_ and more to me – _an angel in the midst of chaos, gracing the skies of our love life._ But, right now…I'm in _danger_ of losing my angel.

_Damien and Eve, my ex-girlfriend…preparing to do battle with each other?_

As if things couldn't get any grimmer, _this_ happens. The terrible thing is: _there's nothing I can do to stop them._ I knew it'd happen eventually, but nothing could've prepared me for _this_… I just hope and pray…that no one dies; that my premonition was nothing more than a bad dream. If that were to happen, if I were to lose these people…_it'd surely destroy me._ Damien, Eve, I'm begging you…_please_…don't fight each other!

"Eve, are you sure about this?" Damien asks, hovering in midair upon his batwings.

The Amazoness nods with a smile, "Yes, I'm sure."

"Very well", Damien holds his rod of Crimson Matter in quarterstaff position.

Eve holds her metallic staff in the same position, "Let's have a glorious battle, my friend."

Damien nods, "I agree. Let's do just that."

"Alright, here I go!" the Combat Specialist gathers a cluster of wind at her feet, and bounds forward towards her opponent with epic velocity. The Amazoness's melodious trill sounds throughout the skies of Brownstone. _"Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi…!"_

Damien furiously flaps his wings, jetting towards his opponent with equivalent speed, _"Haaa…!"_

This is it – the battle to settle the score. Who will win? Will it be my loving fiancé, or will it be my ex-girlfriend? Only time will tell.

_The epic saga continues…_

* * *

><p><strong><em><strong><em>(Opening Theme 2 – "Chikyuugi" by Matsuzawa Yumi)<em>**_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 18 – <strong>**The Boy is Mine, Verse 2**_

* * *

><p>Mother Wendy returned to her Neverland Office around 6:30 AM this morning. She went to sleep, but her dreams weren't pleasant at all… The only thing she could see in her nocturnal slumber were painful images – <em>saddening visions of the Archbishop slowly slipping away from her reach<em>.

No matter how much she chased after him, his image moved _further and further_ away from her.

_("Thaddeus, where are you going…?) she called out to him in her dream, before tripping onto her face. The Mother Superior looked forward, desperately reaching for her fading lover. ("Thaddeus, come back! Don't leave me, again! Thaddeus, please! Thaddeus…!")_

Her tears fell, her heart broke.

Even sitting in the Office is beginning to bother her. It's as if everything's _slipping_ out of her hands – her husband; Sister Eve; even her ties to her young brother, _Cardinal Niccolò_, is fragile enough to crumble. The pain of realizing how much suffering the Count has put her through…_is enough to consume her with depression_.

"Welcome back, Mother Wendy", greets a young female social worker, passing by the Office door.

Mother Wendy looks up, realizing who speaking to her. The sight of her newest employee places a smile on her face. This young lady is actually one of my co-workers: _a WWE Diva who's working under the supervision of the Witness Protection Program._ The social worker approaches her boss, carrying a small stack of files in her arms.

"How was Italy, Mother?" asks the beautiful social worker.

"It was fine, Sister Celeste. Do you happen to know where Brother Kevin is?"

"Oh, he's with Father Andrew and the Methuselahs in Brownstone", she recalls, remembering a message Brother Kevin left for her to give to the Mother Superior. "He asked me to tell you that he _had_ to leave. Father Andrew requested for him to be there to support the negotiation with Sister Eve."

"That's understandable. Sister Eve and Brother Kevin are close friends. It's only _natural_ that Andrew would ask him to assist with such an emotional task."

Sister Celeste places the files on her Mother Superior's desk.

"These files came in for you this morning", announces the social worker.

Mother Wendy begins looking through the files, "Looks like the latest applications for housing came in as scheduled. With Mother Katherine out and about, I'm stuck with having to review these."

"I've got a question, Mother Wendy?"

"What is it, dear?" the Mother Superior gives her employee her undivided attention.

"What's it like being one of the heads of a radical organization _and_ the current DIVAS Champion?"

"A lot of hard work", laughs the kindhearted Abbess. Mother Wendy holds a small vanity mirror to her face, revealing her true image: _Elizabeth Kocianski_, better known as _Beth Phoenix_ to the WWE Universe. "I miss going in to work, scrapping off the stress of having to deal with hordes of filing. The lawsuit's almost done and over with… It may cut us a few pennies short, but at least we can go back to doing what we do best."

"How about giving me a title shot?"

"I would, if I could."

"I know what you mean", the girls share a little laughter. "Creative Writing always 'over-glamorizes' certain talent, never giving little people like _me_ a chance. I'm starting to feel, well…unappreciated."

"Take it from me, sweetie – you won't make it _anywhere_ bellyaching. You'll just end up on the floor with all the other _crybabies_ in the wrestling entertainment business."

"I would've never believed it until just recently…"

"What's that?" asks the Mother Superior.

"Vampires being real", Sister Celeste's impressed behavior brings a smile to the Abbess's beautiful profile. The social worker has a seat in her boss's conference chair. "I mean, sure, I _love_ vampire movies – they're my favorite… But, vampires actually being _real?_ Not to mention super powerful beings of destruction."

"You'll grow to understand that there's _more_ to vampires that movies aren't capable of interpreting. No scriptwriter can comprehend the horror of what it means to exist forever. It's not a glamorous life. Some of us experience a lot of heartache and pain, while others dish it out. That's why _we_, the ones in pain, coexist: to bring an end the Church's tyrannical exploits."

"Yeah, and I'm _more_ than down for that", Sister Celeste stands from her boss's conference chair, remembering her secondary duties. "Almost forgot – I have some errands to run for Lord Frederic."

"What would Fred want from you?"

"He wants an assortment of sticky buns", my Great-grandfather's eccentric requests bring laughter to the Abbess's soul. The girls share a moment of merriment. "I know, right? He begged Lord Alexander to find him some, but there aren't any bakeries in Rutherford; only one about a mile out of the city. I'm going to put in an order for him, ASAP. I don't want to hear that grumpy old man's big mouth."

"Seriously, sticky buns…? After centuries of imprisonment, he wants sticky buns, _of all things?_"

"What, was he _always_ like that?"

"Yes, unfortunately", the girls giggle some more, humored my ancestor's spontaneous sweet tooth. Mother Wendy suddenly becomes very serious… Her heart's troubled. "It's sad, though; how Stuart's living a life similar to that of his Great-grandfather. That boy's chock-full of adventure and headstrong, just like Frederic."

"Any news about Sister Eve's battle with Damien?"

"No, not yet. It's unfortunate that the battle had to occur at such a crucial time, but there was no avoiding it. The Donnas were an eccentric breed of women. Sister Eve's actions proves the excitable nature of her people."

"Yeah, no kidding on that one", confirms the social worker, leaving her boss's Office. "I'm going to get started on that order. See you around, Mother Wendy."

"Have a nice day, Sister Celeste."

The social worker closes the door on her way out. Mother Wendy hears her E-mail notification buzzer from her laptop. She accesses her Dell by typing in her password, and then her desktop screen is shown: a beautiful valley of chrysanthemums in Beijing, China. The Abbess accesses her E-mail through Internet Explorer, and sees 1 new webcam request from Father Andrew.

"What the–?" gasps the Mother Superior, confused by such a spontaneous message.

She clicks the link, opening a live viewing of the battle in Brownstone City. Her gasp alerts the Cyber-technologist, and the surrounding Methuselahs.

"Good to see you've accepted my invite, Wendy", says the cool-natured scientist.

"Andrew, where are you?"

"You're looking through a camera lens in my badge", he waves his hand in front of his badge, confirming his explanation. Father Andrew folds his arms behind his back. Mother Wendy notices how vigorously the two combatants struggle against each other. "As you can see, it's looking pretty rough from our end. Those two have been at it for the past 10 minutes, and have yet to slow down. The adrenaline level's shooting through the roof."

"Where's Mother Katherine and the others?"

"Watching from their hotel room windows. Stuart, however… Well, he's standing back, watching this play out. I feel for the guy – having to look at something like this."

"Don't you feel the same?" giggles the Mother Superior.

Father Andrew cuts a proud snicker, "You know I do, lassie."

* * *

><p>Sister Eve has since taken the offense, throwing everything in her repertoire at her opponent. Damien retains a clean evasive approach, dodging the Amazoness's wild attacks. The warrior woman twirls her metal staff above her head, sporting her amazing hand coordination. The wind excites, gathering into a storming cluster of air around the edges of her twirling rod.<p>

Damien remains calm, not flinching or showing any signs of reaction. This act of composure offends the Amazoness, for such tranquility is contrary to "the Donna Way":_ to show relentless aggression during combat_.

_"What are you doing?" the Amazoness swings her staff through the air twice, sending dual crescent waves of air pressure towards her opponent. "Fight me like you mean it, Damien!"_

"Well, _someone's_ full of energy today", Damien uses flash movement to strafe to the left, avoiding his opponent's conventional technique. Sister Eve manipulates the air, creating a bed of airstreams at her feet. She uses the bed to fiercely bound forward, rearing her staff above her head… The Amazoness nearly makes contact with a thrash to the skull, but Damien's quick enough to place his rod of Crimson Matter above his head in defense. _Their weapons clash, exhausting a wave of biological currents and air pressure!_ My fiancé shows admiration towards his opponent's speedy technique. "You're pretty fast, Eve. You'd make an _excellent_ sparring partner for me. I could learn a thing or two from you, _if_ you're willing to teach me, that is."

_Damien punts his opponent in the stomach with his right foot, causing Eve to lose her breath!_

_"UH…!"_ she gasps in pain, before Damien bounds off of the Amazoness's abdominals. Damien's nimble technique creates a lot of space in between them. Eve's body is pushed away in the process; however, she manipulates the wind once again. Eve focuses the airstreams behind her back, creating a soft bed of wind for her to land on. After landing, she regains her aerial balance and looks forward at the remote, stationary image of her opponent. The Crusnik smiles upon his challenger's ire, making Sister Eve even angrier than before. "Are you making fun of me…? _Why aren't you fighting for real…?_"

"Because I don't want to hurt you, of course", shouts my fiancé from afar.

_"Why you…!"_ growls the Amazoness, holding her metallic rod in quarterstaff formation. Her cybernetic rod elongates to 20.5 meters in length and, despite its extensive size, she twirls her staff with inhuman accuracy and coordination. Damien begins feeling a strong draft coming from the propeller-like front. "If you don't want to fight me seriously, then I'll finish you off quickly…_with the Donna Tribe's strongest technique!_"

"Strongest technique, you say? Well, if you're going all out…_then, perhaps I should return the gesture._"

The Blood Gem on Damien's metallic bracelet glows, as a cloud of Crimson Matter forms around his body… The cloud circulates a strong draft, which builds in potency as his cloud's expansion range increases. All bystanders are stunned at how _strong_ Damien's power level has become.

"Incredible!" fascinates Father Yuvraj.

"The lad's existence is sending chills up me spine", Stephen seconds, resisting the draft's repelling force.

"He's going to do it…" Father Andrew's knowledge of what Damien's meditation means grasps his Methuselahs' attention. "…Damien's going to fight at 50%. This's his _first time_ accessing half of his power, so I've _no_ idea how much this'll affect him mentally."

_The Methuselahs are disturbed by such a grim revelation!_

"Say what now…?" gasps Brother Jayson.

"What do you mean by that…?" seconds Sister Sarona.

"Will he be all right?" thirds Brother John.

"There's a 50/50 chance that his blood will _overexcite_, causing him to transform into _'a Dark Blood Crusnik'_: a more _violent_ version of an Eater's transformed state. When that happens, this battle will be over…_and we may have to restrain him_."

"And you're just going to let that happen…?" outrages Brother Randal, causing his creator to close his eyes in shame. "What, you can't answer us now…? I thought you said that you 'loved' him… _Or was that just another one of your clever devices?_"

"I meant what I said: _I love him, and there's no changing that._ However, Damien _has_ to master the Dark Blood in order to be considered a 'true' Crusnik. In my opinion, Sister Eve's _more_ than capable of bringing the best out of the lad, even if it kills her… So, no matter how much I want to, I can't interfere. It's for his own good."

Observing carefully from my distance, it appears as if two storming clouds are about to collide – one crimson red, the other transparent… I haven't felt a power level _this_ potent since our encounter with White Album. Whatever they're about to do, it's going to shake _the_ _entire_ _foundation_ of Brownstone City.

"Damien, prepare yourself!" preps the Amazoness, before her storming aura violently excites.

The air pressure pushes against _everything_ in the area, creating a mild hurricane within the territory's confined expansion area. All bystanders, including innocents spectating from inside the Hilton, are stunned by Eve's awe-inspiring display of supernatural muscle.

_The Combat Specialist unleashes her strongest attack, "Amazônia Secret Technique: Roaring Lion!"_

_A violent tornadic storm circulates from the twirling of the Amazoness's elongated staff!_

Damien, however, is not moved by the warrior woman's conventional finishing technique… My fiancé arrogantly huffs, extending his left palm forward in a leisure manner. This simple gesture, despite its blasé execution, is strong enough to halt the oncoming storm's progression with a wall of biological currents.

_Everyone's shocked by his incredible exhibition of supernatural defense!_

"Did he just…?" Natalie gasps in shock.

"He stopped her attack with an energy wall…?" continues Brother Theodore in awe. "That's amazing! Only _SSS Class fighters_ are capable of doing that! You don't mean to tell me…that he's…?"

_"He's a Triple-S Class fighter…" I shudder in awe of what I'm witnessing: the incredible spiritual strength that Damien's concealed from us for weeks. "Damien, is this what you've become, while I wasn't looking? Are you really this strong?"_

_Damien's aura begins to violently excite, signifying the ascension of his power!_

**_"Battle Dance 00: Ravenous Child – 50%!"_**_ with his epic call, his image begins to change. The Crimson matter that was contained in his skeletal system…surfaces. His batwings develop spiked bone protrusions at the bending tip and the flight muscle. Engravings of the crystalline substance develop around the lining of his chest, arm muscles, and parts of his face. His ears are decorated with small biological earring studs, as well as a brooch that forms around his neck. Everyone is amazed by the beauty of his biogenetic transformation. "Eve, if you're willing to fight me for real, than so shall I. I shall disappoint you no longer, my dear."_

Damien begins exhausting a disruption wave of biological currents from his extended palm, causing Sister Eve's violent storm to disburse and fade into thin air! All bystanders are robbed of words, only capable of feeling great intimidation. Sister Eve stops twirling her staff, causing it to retract back to 1.82 m in length. The look on her face says it all: _she's more intimidated by her opponent's spiritual strength than anyone else._

_"Impossible! Where did you get this power from…?"_

"I'm usually not one to flaunt _or_ boast, but my existence is _much_ more terrifying than this", smiles the empowered Crusnik warrior. Sister Eve holds her rod in quarterstaff position, tenaciously displaying her courageous nature. My fiancé gives his opponent a chance to get a good hit on him. "Go on, Eve…_hit_ me. You know you want to; that being 'the Amazon Way' and all. To be frank with you, this entire battle's been _nothing_ but 'child's play' to me. I expected you to be _much_ stronger than this, but it appears that _I'm_ the one schooling _you_. Thanks for bringing it out of me…_the Dark Blood Form_."

_"Dark…Blood?" I shudder under my breath, shocked by such a title._

Damien's arrogant verse has aroused the Amazoness with anger and offense! Her energy level's rising through the roof! Full of uncontrollable ire, Sister Eve spiritually preps herself for a killing blow!

_"What did you say…?" snarls the Amazoness, gathering a cluster of airstreams at her feet. She bounds forward, rushing towards her opponent with relentless velocity. "How dare you – mocking the Donna Tribe's memory with your smug talk! I'll bash your fucking head in for that, you egotistical bastard…!"_

Despite his opponent's enraged forthcoming, Damien finds humor in his current situation, "_Hmph._ How amusing of you…_foolish jungle broad!_"

The Dark Blood Crusnik dematerializes his staff of Crimson Matter, retreating it into his blood stream… Sister Eve believes this to be an opening, swinging her staff downward onto Damien's skull! The impact is enough to shatter a person's skeletal system to dust!

_"He took the shot…?" outrages the frightened Earth Master._

"No, wait…" halts Father Yuvraj, grasping Stephen's attention. "…Look, his body's not falling. That can only mean that…her attack…"

"…That didn't scratch him _at all_", finishes the Head Mother.

"What kind of resistance _is_ this...?" I fearfully fascinate, looking upon the image of Damien's rising right hand. I shudder, realizing what's about to happen. _"No… No, you mean to tell me… This is how it happens…?"_

Damien grabs onto the stretched section of Eve's cybernetic rod with his right hand, taking it off of his unharmed skull. He leisurely rakes his petrified, snowy locks back into their original shape with his left fingers. A malicious smile decorates his face, followed by a taunting crimson glow from his beautiful eyes.

Sister Eve begins attempting to pull her staff out of Damien's powerful grip.

"Let go!" she demands, struggling to free her weapon from the Dark Blood Crusnik's right hand. However, no matter how much she tries, Sister Eve can't break free of her opponent's grip. "Let go of my weapon, right now! You hear me…? I said, LET GO!"

"Shut up!" Damien's irritation causes Sister Eve's cybernetic rod to chemically transmute into a rod of Crimson Matter, which then shatters into celluloid dust in mere seconds! The overwhelmed Amazoness uses the surrounding airstreams to back away from her opponent, having been fearfully humbled by his spiritual muscle. Damien halts her with strong, rebuking tone. "_Stop right there, little Miss Thing!_ You're not going _anywhere_, unless I _grant_ you your leave… Understood?"

Thinking of the resting spirits of her fallen Sisters, Sister Eve comes to the conclusion that she can't back down from her rival, no matter _how_ strong he is. It's not "the Donna Way" to cower before a powerful enemy. The Donnas were a tribe of powerful, tenacious and _headstrong_ women; no man _or_ beast could bring them down without a fight. They fought until the _bitter_ end, when all else failed them. Remembering the Secrets of the Amazônia Martial Arts, there's only one ace left up her sleeve.

"It looks like I'm _really_ going to need those Access Cards after this", Sister Eve begins summoning a powerful aura around her body. The beautiful warrior woman concentrates her battle aura, creating a sphere of hurricane-force winds around her balled right fist. "This is the last resort of the Donnas: _an Amazônia Secret Technique that consumes the entirety of our spiritual force._ As a Donna, this is my final tribute to my Sisters. If this doesn't win the battle for me…_I will gladly forfeit, knowing that I gave it my all._"

"What is that prissy little princess about to do…?" outrages the Huntress Methuselah.

"She's honoring her Sisters, to the last of her power", answers Brother Kevin.

"What's so 'honorable' about committing a reckless act of suicide…?"

"It's the Donna Way, Ronnie", Brother Kevin explains, knowing a lot about the warrior women from the stories Eve's shared with him in the past. His fellow cyborgs, and his creator, give the Marksman their undivided attention. Brother Kevin recalls the meaning behind Eve's daring actions. "It's called _'À Acta Final da Coragem'_: _the Final Act of Courage_, which is said to be the _greatest_ of honors to the Donna Tribe. For a 'Sister' to sacrifice her connection to the air, it's considered an honor to the memories of fallen warriors; kind of like a soldier who goes above and beyond, being awarded with a Purple Heart. Since the Donnas are extinct, this is her way of letting them to know that she never gave up, in honor of their memory. It may look reckless, but…_it's the greatest memorial she can offer, in remembrance of the Fallen_."

The sky becomes dark, being covered by storming clouds… Thunder rumbles, lightning strikes! The wind rate rapidly increases. Brownstone City is then covered by _a mild windstorm_. Brother Paul looks around, witnessing how eerie the area looks when covered by darkness.

"I never thought I'd see this place look so…_creepy_."

"Oh, that's right", Brother Heath recalls the story of how the Swordsman became a Methuselah. "This is where you had that motorcycle accident a few years back. I was wondering why this place sounded so familiar."

"Yeah, it was storming just like this on that fateful afternoon. I _hate_ thinking about it, but that accident _took my life_ in the process… Father Andrew found me _half-dead_ in the rainy streets, took me to his reconstruction lab in the area, and revived me with cyber-technology. That's why my codename is _'Mr. Brownstone'_. It's ironic – me watching Sister Eve battle in such a nostalgic setting… I just pray that things don't spiral out of hand."

"I think we _all_ feel the same way, lad", agrees Father Andrew for the rest of his party.

Damien remains composed before his concentrating rival, as Sister Eve's remain power reaches its peak… The proud Amazoness stakes everything on this one attack. If this doesn't work, it's all over.

_"Amazônia Secret Technique: Final Hurricane…!" the proud Donna punches her energized right fist forward, shooting an monumental wave of air pressure from her knuckles._

The Dark Blood Crusnik closes his eyes, laterally outstretching holding his arms… No! What is he doing…?

**_"DAMIEN…!"_** I cry out, overwhelmed by the thought losing my fiancé.

I can't take it anymore! I gather a cluster of airstreams at my feet, charging forward to save him from sudden death! Everyone is amazed to see me racing to the rescue… Eve's eyes widen with shock, witnessing the love overflowing from my tearful eyes.

"I've had enough of this…!" I come to a halt in front of Damien, causing him to open his eyes in confusion.

"Stuart, what are you doing…?" he outrages, placing his arms down in the process.

"Saving you, and her", I surround my body with a shell of sunlight, holding my palms forward.

Eve's Final Hurricane crashes into my outstretched hands, easily be halted in its tracks… It's a shame – there's not enough power in this attack to stand up to a normal vampire… I easily disburse the storm by punching at it with my energized right fist! The last of Eve's power is casted throughout Brownstone as a temporal squall… When the last of Eve's power has left her, she loses her control over the wind and begins plummeting towards the pavement below.

_"AH…!"_ she screams, before she's safely caught by Brother Kevin's strong arms.

It was a hasty save – the Marksman activated his ionic jets, took off and came to a halt underneath her falling body. She opens her eyes, looking at the face of her bestfriend. The hovering hero smiles at her, realizing that he's surprised her a bit.

"Kevin…? Where did you come from?" she smiles.

_"Let's go back to base, okay?"_

"Kevin, I…" Sister Eve suddenly feels herself becoming drowsy, exhausted from having spent the last of her spiritual power. _"What's…wrong with me?"_

"Just rest, Sis. You were amazing out there, you know."

"Kevin…thank you", Sister Eve passes out into a deep sleep.

The Marksman manually increases the potency of his ionic jets, ascending upward to our altitude. He looks into my eyes with a proud smile. Kevin's gained a considerable amount of respect for me, after having witnessed my heroic deed.

"You two really are in love, huh?" he asks, as Damien hovers to my left side.

I look to my fiancé, and he looks at me.

"We are", answers the Dark Blood Crusnik.

"120%, maybe even more than that", I second.

"Father Andrew said that Damien would probably 'lose control' in his Dark Blood Form… But, it's looks like you're all right, kiddo. That was so fancy power. Wish I was that strong, but fate said otherwise.."

"Thanks, Kiley", my fiancé loses his transformation, changing back into his civilian form. All of a sudden, Damien begins to feel as equally drained at his rival. _"Uh-oh…I think…I overdid it a bit too much…"_

_His body begins to plummet to the ground below!_

"Damien!" I concentrate the airstreams at my feet, diving down to successfully catch his body in my arms. I heavily exhale, happy to see that my nightmare didn't come true – _that it was nothing more than a silly dream_. Using the airstreams at my feet, I ascend to Brother Kevin's altitude and extend a request. "Kev, take Eve to a bed and let her rest. After that, correct her circuitry and welcome her with open arms. Please."

"We're way ahead of you, ya lovesick puppy dog!" sounds Father Andrew from the rooftop. I turn around, looking up to see the grand image of the Cyber-technologist and his band of Methuselahs. He shoots me a 'thumbs-up' with his right hand. "Nice save, bro. You were always one to have hotties _falling_ into your arms."

"Touché, jackass", I grin, sharing a little laughter with my old friend. I make a request of the Cyber-technologist. " Please, take good care of Eve for me. I don't want our _Maid of Honor_ fatigued on our wedding day."

Everyone's pleased to hear my choice… But, that's not all…my next decision makes more sense than the first one. I ask Andrew the question that's been floating through my mind for years.

_"Andrew, old friend…will you do me the honor of being my Best Man?"_

I can't see it from this distance, but the emotional nightwalker's just shed a tear… He wipes his face with the back of his right hand, pleased to hear my question. The Methuselahs look upon their creator's happiness, glad to see him in high spirits. The refined scientist gives his answer.

_"More than delighted to, pup", he nods with a charming smile._

"Many thanks, Drew. I'm sure Damien would approve of it."

"Take the cutie to a bed and let him rest of the remainder of the day", instructs the Cyber-technologist.

"I agree", nods the Mother Superior, speaking from Father Andrew's badge.

"Who was that?" I ask.

"That's Mother Wendy – the Head of the Barcelonan Branch", Andrew explains, looking down at the badge on his chest. He presses a button on the top of his badge, casting a holographic projection of the Mother Superior's image. My eyes widen at the sight of who the Mother Superior really is. Damien awakens from unconsciousness, and is _shocked_ to see the same thing. Father Andrew gives Mother Wendy her time to speak. "Go ahead and reintroduce yourself, lassie. It's _way_ past overdue."

"Thank you, Father Andrew", the beautiful Abbess looks upon our image with loving eyes. "Hello, Stu. It's good to see you again. And it looks like DC's just woke up."

_"Beth…is that really you?" Damien asks with weak words._

"Rest yourself, dear. You don't want to tire yourself out. Having fought a warrior who helped with the awakening of your Dark Blood, a little rest is _more_ than overdue to you."

_Damien smiles, agreeing with the Abbess's concerns, "You were always a smart woman. You're right…I could use a soft bed right about now."_

"Stuart, please, take good care of him. Congratulations on your future joining. I'm pretty sure Sister Eve will be _thrilled_ to know that she's a member of your wedding party."

"Thanks a million, Beth", I smile in acceptance of her kind words.

"Come by the Neverland Office whenever you wish. I'll be more than happy to prepare the proper accommodations for your party. Lost Boyz, bring Sister Eve to the Brownstone Laboratory ASAP. Let Father Andrew correct her circuitry, and then have her returned to home base. And, Mother Katherine, continue watch over these younglings. Never back down from being the loving 'big sister' I know you can be."

"You can count in it, Wen", answers the Head Mother from her windowpane.

"I'm ending my transmission here. Until we meet again, take care."

The webcam chat is brought to close, and the holographic image is deactivated. The remainder of the Methuselahs step back and activate their cybernetic batwings, allowing their ionic jets to decorate the air with a light shade of blue. Brother Kevin joins his fellow dispatch units in flying towards the Brownstone Laboratory.

Father Andrew pauses for a moment, smiling upon our airborne image.. And then, he ascends into the air upon a bed of airstreams, joining his Methuselahs on their way to his Laboratory. At first, I didn't know what that smile meant, but I was sure to find out…_sooner or later_.

Fate has inscribed it: _the unforeseen events happen when I at least expect them to_.

* * *

><p>Mother Wendy enters the rooftop from the elevator, walking forward onto the airplane landing zone… This place is a small haven, separated from the stress of dealing with mountains of paperwork. After witnessing such an energetic battle, the Abbess felt the urge to take in a little outside air.<p>

She inhales and exhales, "_Ah_, that's a refreshing wind. I can see why Sister Eve's so fascinated with it."

"You come up here, too?" a familiar voice turns the Mother Superior on her heel. Sister Celeste is enjoying her lunch break on the bench to the left of the elevator. The social worker waves to her boss. "Hello there, Boss Lady! Just enjoy an apple, a ham sandwich and some fruit juice."

The Mother Superior's delight to see her employee enjoying herself.

"Mind if I sit with you, dear?"

"Sure, no problem", Mother Wendy takes her employee's invitation, resting next to the dining social worker. Sister Celeste takes the last bite of her apple. She chews on its flavorful meat, savoring its sweet taste. She swallows the final portion of meal, wondering what's become of the fight. "So, about the Brownstone Incident… Did Sister Eve win or not?"

"No, she didn't. Damien accessed his _Dark Blood Form_, bring their battle to a pivotal climax. Stuart saved Damien from Eve's final attack using his existence of the sun. Both combatants lost all of their strength, having pushed themselves to the limit. So, in the end, the confrontation concluded with _a_ _draw_."

"Wouldn't it be _awesome_ if something like that happened at a WrestleMania?"

"After the Willington Incident, I don't think the world's ready for that kind of competition", the girls share a moment of laughter. Mother Wendy realizes something. "You know, humans aren't really capable of understanding 'the truth'. We children of the night, who have lived for _ages_, are the same way. We _were_ human, after all…once upon a time ago."

"What was it _like_ back then?" asks the curious human worker. "You know, how society was and stuff."

"Well, when I was a young woman, society was _bound_ to the Church… It was the way things ran: _the Church controlled all of Parliament, as well as several other governmental bodies in Europe._ Men still believed in 'chivalry', but that hasn't changed too much… If anything, there're people who _still_ follow it…_ to an extent_."

"Did you find your 'knight in shining armor'?" questions the giggly social worker.

_"Yes, I did…but, currently, the Count has him under an amorous spell", Mother Wendy's emotional confession brings pity to Sister Celeste's heart. "My mother once told me something very valuable: if you love someone, you love them with your 'everything'. As time went on, I was able to love Thaddeus with 'my everything' – my heart, my mind, my body, my soul, my spirit, my understanding, and my trust. Nothing was left out of 'my everything', and I wish to keep it that way. That is why I tell young girls of this age the same thing… Love a man with 'your everything'. It pays off, even if he doesn't return that 'everything' back. At least you'll walk away with a clean slate. It's every now and them that we girls meet 'the Potential One'. If he is 'Mr. Right', continue to follow that lesson. It'll never fail you, and your heart will never feel guilt in your relationship."_

"What about _him_ – your man?"

_"Fate had it that he was wooed into not loving me with 'his everything'. Though it was against his will, he still tried to… I've stood up as the woman who's helped him to rediscover his emotions. Despite the way things appear, Thaddeus is close to giving those affections back to me. I patiently await the day that he returns to me."_

"I'm sorry, Boss Lady", Mother Wendy's pleased to have the support of her busiest employee.

"It's quite all right, Sister. I'm an old woman, and we old gals tend to become strong over time. I'm centuries up in age, so I'm much stronger than I look. Being an Immortal has it perks."

Sister Celeste notices the time on her wristwatch, "Dang it, I've got to get back to work."

"So soon? I thought your break lasted for an hour."

"Oh, that was yesterday", reminds the social worker.

"I see", smiles the Mother Superior. "I must be going senile; forgetting my employee's schedules and all."

"Oh, don't talk like that – age doesn't' phase women like us. I know we have a 'boss/employee' relationship, but _please_ give me a call if you need to talk to talk someone. It's not good to keep emotions like that bottled up… I hope Thaddeus comes back to you…he seems like a _really_ nice guy. Well, see you around, Boss Lady."

"You too, dear", Sister Celeste departs from the rooftop via the elevator.

Mother Wendy looks up to the beautiful afternoon sky, admiring its gentle azure color… In her heart, she knows that her husband will return to her. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow…but he'll return, someday.

And, on that fateful day…Mother Wendy will find true happiness.

* * *

><p>The Pope rests in the comfort of his bedchamber in the Church… His spirit is troubled. He's felt this way for the past <em>four<em> hours. For centuries, Pope Leonard has stood by the Count's side, supporting his every dark endeavor. The same goes for the King of Rutherford, Henry Tudor. However, as of late, it appears as if the Church's morale has started to slowly _deplete_.

("Niccolò, why did you do it?"), he meditates, disturbed by thoughts of a phone call from the Cardinal.

Just a few hours ago, Niccolò phoned the Pope's office and gave him a personal notice of resignation.

**_***Four hours ago in the Pope's office…***_**

His office phone rung twice before he picked it up.

"This is the Pope. How may I help you?"

"Buongiorno (Good morning), Leonard", greeted the Cardinal, bringing a smile to the Pope's face.

"Niccolò, it's a pleasure to hear from you."

"This call is not for 'pleasure', but for other things. Things that trouble Niccolò's heart."

"What's on your mind, old friend?" questioned the concerned Church leader.

"I have disapproved of the Count's endeavors since the beginning. His current actions have only proven my suspicions and censures of his position."

"Niccolò…where are you going with this?"

"I call to tell you…that I am reluctantly…stepping down from the Chair", the Cardinal's shocking message struck the Pope with sadness. Having supported the Count for so long, Leonard felt as if he was losing a dear old friend. Niccolò extended his sentiments. "I know this is molto triste (very sad) news to you, but I _refuse_ to continue working for a tyrant."

"Why, Niccolò…? Valdo gave you everything–…"

"He gave me nothing but guilt and shame!" fiercely interrupted the resigning ecclesiast, silencing his friend's ignorant words. "Every day I wake, I feel pain, knowing that bastardo avido (greedy bastard) has my brother-in-law under a sexual spell… You think I don't know, how he poisoned his mind, turning him into a Dietrich? My existence of water, _Purple Rain_, has the ability to see everything through precipitation and water vapor. Amongst many other things, that one attribute has helped me keep tabs on Conte Valdo for centuries. And, for centuries, I have seen him do nothing but lead people to Hell! That is not a 'church', that is 'a cultic feeding ground'! And I will _not_ offer my services anymore!"

"Niccolò, have you gone insane…?" outrages the Pope. "Stop this foolish this instant! If the Count were to hear you say that, he'd surely–…"

"Conte Valdo non è il mio Dio (Count Valdo is not my God)!" Niccolò interrupted Leonard's outburst with a greater level of ire. The Pope is silenced by his former partner's anger. "He's an immortal man with so much power, that he's gone completely insane! Have you forgotten…how he stole you from your home, took you from you wife and children, and left them there to die? _Did he fuck you so hard that you forgot about that…?_"

A centuries-old wound was reopened, filling the Pope with an unbearable amount of guilt.

_"How…did you know about that…?" shuddered the Church leader in shame._

"_Everyone_ knows, Leo", Niccolò explained with condolatory tone. "You were his first lover, and he threw you away for the Archbishop…_my_ brother-in-law, and my sister's estranged husband. I wonder _why_ you continue to serve a man who _broke_ your heart in half. He didn't even stop to _help_ you up…_when Lord Alexander cursed you with his spell_. I thought it would've reached you by now – _how Il Conte freed Thaddeus of the Heart of Glass_."

When Leonard heard that bit of news, that was all he needed to realize how _unappreciated_ he was… The Count freed Thaddeus of the Heart of Glass, but _not_ the Pope: _a man who was once enamored with the Lord of the Night_. It's crueler than betrayal, and the Pope felt the sting of the Count's heartbreaking negligence.

"Leonard, _listen_ to me…" Niccolò stressed, grasping the Pope's undivided attention. "…If you mess up on him _one more time_, he'll take your life. Valdo _hates_ 'useless things', and _that_ is why he threw you away for Thaddeus – _because you could no longer please is rotten old loins_. I know you're probably not going to heed my warning, but the blood is _off_ my hands. I pray that you find the courage to leave, just as I did. Until then…vivere la vita in pace (live your life in peace)."

The phone call ended, taking a part of the Pope's heart along with it. It was the most devastating moment of Leonard's life, and the pain refuses to lessen. Still, to think that Niccolò would forcefully resign from the Church and reveal such dispiriting news… _The Pope never thought he'd live to see the day that such an event occurred_.

**_***…Back to the present***_**

Thinking about all of the cruel things he's done for the Count, Pope Leonard remembers the anger that Valdo once made him feel… He remembers screaming out "I hate you, Count Valdo", before his mortal life was taken by the Dark Lord's kiss of death. That memory – the loss of his family – was nothing more than a faint image that was shielded by the Count's lies for _centuries_…_until four hours ago_.

("Maybe I should resign after all"), concludes the Pope, after having given it a lot of thought. The only thing he can do is report this to King Henry, but it'll have to be in person. King Henry, unlike Count Valdo, is much more understanding when it comes to 'personal life decisions'. ("I should schedule a flight to Aldington as soon as possible. Henry's sure to be resting in the comfort of his chateau by now… I wonder if I should bring a parting gift or not… Hmm, it wouldn't matter anyway…Henry's _never_ been one to accept valedictory handouts. Still…I wonder how I'm going to break the news to him.")

He picks up his mobile, dials the number to his private jet pilot… After a few dial tones, a young female Gideonite worker answers.

"Good afternoon, Pope Leonard", greets the young Gideonite.

"The same to you, Ms. Fitzgerald."

"How may I help you today, Your Holiness?"

"I'd like to schedule a flight to Aldington, for a meeting with the King", he answers with a smile.

"What time would you like to leave?"

"Midnight, tonight. Henry likes talking in the midst of the moonlight."

"Sounds like a plan", giggles the understanding female pilot.

"Thanks again, Ms. Fitzgerald."

"Um, now _when_ are you going to start calling me 'Ella'?" playfully questions the Gideonite follower.

"I try to remain professional with _all_ of our Gideonites, regardless of their age, religion, or orientation. It's the way I was raised, and the way that I live my life. Forgive me if I'm too formal for you."

"It's all right, I understand", giggles the youthful pilot. "I'll be waiting for you on the rooftop at midnight. Be ready by then; I've got a few more residents to pick up after you."

"I'll be ready, dear."

"Okay, take care and have a good afternoon, Your Holiness."

"You too…Ella", returns the Pope, making the female pilot blush.

The call is ended, and Leonard stands from his bed to get prepared… As he begins undressing to change from his pajamas to a set of traveling robes, the ageless nightwalker notices his reflection in the mirror… He sees the Heart of Glass implant _shining_ just below his lungs. This battle scar has stayed with him for centuries, and he has yet to be freed from it. He begins to think – _perhaps he can free himself of the curse, if he were to change sides_. There are _two_ Crusniks within the Infinity ranks, so there's a slim chance that he can return to his normal self… He hopes and prays that the Head Mother will have him in her center of operations.

Leonard places his left hand over his glass curse, making a vow to himself.

("To be free is what I want most of all…and I will make _sure_ to obtain that life-long desire. Even if it means my death…_that_ is the one thing I want the most: _to live at least one second of spiritual liberation._ Then, and only then, will I be able to die in peace…regretting nothing.")

His mind is made up… Pope Leonard de Bleus, one of the Count's most loyal supporters, wishes to step down from his Chair. In order to do that, he will personally report his decision to the King of Rutherford, Henry Tudor. However, he fails to realize how _crafty and deceptive_ the King truly is.

Currently, my Great-grandfather Frederic is locked away in the safety of a containment chamber, where he is given food, rest, and leisure activity on an hour basis. Though he's constantly under cybernetic monitoring, wearing a thin wired neuro-helmet of on his head, he seems to be doing just fine… _Still, these technological accommodations aren't capable of freeing him of the King's control._

Even at this very moment, his heart is fighting the urge…_to kill_.

Watching from behind an observatory glass, Uncle Alexander feels his old friend's bloodlust beginning to _swell_. The Crusnik Lord _knows_ that the day will come…_when he must defeat my Great-grandfather, for the sake of his sanity_. Uncle Alexander dreads this moment more than anything else.

("Fred, resist your bloodlust for a little while longer"), he silently pleads, clutching his fists with frustration. ("If I have to fight you _now_, I won't be mentally set for it. For the sake of both our well-beings, _fight_ the urge to kill. If not for yourself, _do_ it for your son…_and your grandchildren_. I believe in you, Fred… We _all_ do.")

In a way, we're _all_ suffering or _we_ _have_ suffered…_because of the Count's selfish ambitions_. Not a single one of us has escaped his influence, and it's enough to make one's blood _boil_. When this is all over, we will no longer have to worry about pain…suffering…_heartache_… We'll all be able to live our lives in peace, living in harmony…_as one vast civilization, not separated by the food chain or corrupt desires_.

Will we _finally_ see an era of peace?

Will the Pope's meeting with the King be peaceful…_or catastrophic?_

Will Grandpa Frederic be able to bring an end to King Henry's curse…_or will it consume him, entirely?_

Only time will give us the answers to these questions…and many more.

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme 2 – "Colors" by Utada Hikaru)<em>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Up Next: Chapter 19 – Papa Was a Rolling Stone)<em>**


	20. Chapter 19: Papa Was a Rolling Stone

_**BLOOD/Night**_

* * *

><p>It was precisely 11:50PM when Damien awoke from slumber. He awakens to the feeling of someone holding him from behind, and a warm chest pressed against his back. The fatigued Crusnik looks over his free right shoulder… <em>I'm<em> the one holding him; it's been that way for the past four hours.

After his nerve-racking battle, I haven't been able to separate myself from him, now more than ever. It deeply wounded me – watching my fiancé and my ex-girlfriend engage in mortal combat. Though it was an honorable battle, I just couldn't do it… I couldn't see them fighting each other, and the only thing I want is for them to finally find peace amongst each other.

That is why I chose Eve to be the Maid of Honor. I'm sure Damien would want the same thing: to extend such an offer to her, as a token of friendship… I know, I know! It was probably a stupid thing to do, and I had no right to choose, but I just… I just couldn't see them hurting each other like that.

_I don't want to…_

_I refuse to watch it again…_

("Hmph, how cute of him…") my fiancé gently pulls out of my embrace, quietly scoots out of bed and stands to his feet. Luckily for him, this mattress doesn't have springs, and is made with ComforPedic technology. I'm unable to feel him moving, so I'm still fast asleep. Damien turns around, looks at my resting body, and marvels at an image of masculine tranquility. (…And he calls _me_ 'a little protector'… Stuart, you fool – I asked you to never put yourself in harm's way, ever again. I could've stopped Eve's attack with my Dark Blood Form's physical fortitude… But, you didn't see it that way…did you?")

_It's starting to thunder outside… The rain comes soon after._

My fiancé turns around, and walks to our suite's window. He doesn't realize it yet, but we didn't hang out with Tamia like we said we would. However, that's been rescheduled… Tammy said that she saw _everything_ that happened, and that she felt we needed our rest. We talked for two whole hours, before she had to get off the phone and retire for the evening. It's quite fortunate, running into her the way I have.

We've one more bridesmaid now, and I'm glad that it's her.

"_Can't sleep?" my voice alerts Damien, causing him to sharply turn on his heel. I'm awake, after having my sleep disturbed by not having him in my arms. I gently pat the mattress with my free right hand, gazing at his obscured image with seductive glare. "Come here, boy… I want to touch you."_

"Hmph. In the mood, are we? You've always been the 'fresh' type, Stuey."

"Hush…and come here, now."

"Stuey…" he sheepishly giggles, aroused by my commanding voice. However, just like always, Damien turns his back to me and acts stubborn. "…No, I'm not going to."

"Being resilient now, are you? Don't make me come over there and wax you up against the window."

"I'd like to see you try."

"You should know that 'trying' has nothing to do with it…" I stand from our bed, take off my shirt and walk up to his shadowy figure. The thunder strikes, the lightning flashes… The outside world can see it: the image of my taller frame sneaking up behind my lover. I cradle his small frame in my arms, sharing a passionate kiss with my loving fiancé. Damien turns his head away from me, basking in the touch of my strong hands, feeling them examine his buxom frame. To tickle at his impulses, I whisper into his right ear. "…How do you want it, love? Fast; slow; hard; soft; temporal…_or all night long?_"

"_Do as you please, Daddy", he whispers in a breath of ecstasy._

"As you wish, love", I begin unbuckling his pants, gnawing at neck like a sexual beast. His jeans hit the floor, revealing his form-fitting boxer briefs. As I slip my hands into his undies, caressing his soft brown skin, a light scent tickles my senses… Roses… Why do I smell roses? "Damien…are you wearing cologne?"

"No…I'm not wearing anything."

"You smell like roses… Why is that?"

"It's my blood", he turns around and begins unbuckling my pants. "Crimson Matter carries a scent of roses, but it's only manifested once the carrier ascends to a secondary form. I'm going to smell like this for a while… I hope it's not bothering you."

"Not at all", my pants hit the floor. I step out of them, and Damien does the same to his. He giggles, as my strong arms lift him off the ground, as if he were a big kid. "I've changed my mind… I'm an old-fashioned brute; I'd rather have you on a soft bed. No more animal sex; from now on, we make love."

"What's gotten into you?" he asks with an impressed giggle. "You're usually the 'wild type'."

"You, that's what…" my romantic verse quiets his laughter, sending an amorous vibe throughout his entire body. I carry my fiancé to our rented bed, gently laying his heavenly body upon its soft mattress. I pull his undies off, teasing him by pressing my lips against his smooth, chocolaty thighs. His carnal breathing speaks a thousand unsaid words. "…Are you becoming randy, love?"

"Mmm…quite so", he hisses, as I toss his boxer briefs to the bedroom floor.

My body rises upon him like a surge of sexual dominance – he is conquered by my image, and mesmerized by my touch. Our lips meet, engaging in a gentle war of passion… Neither one of us wishes to give up the fight. We're stubborn men, and I'm grateful that our personalities continue to retain their strong composition.

"I want it…" his soft hands tease my body, travelling down the sides of my solid frame – my shoulders, my latissimus dorsi, all the way into my underwear. He's feeling my thighs… Damien wants me inside of him. "…I want to feel you, Stuart. I _always_ want to feel you, even when you're far away from me. Even if it's not physically…_I just want to feel you inside of my heart…_ I _never_ want us to stop loving each other; to live eternally, happy…_together_. I love you, Stuart Alexander Bennett…_now more than ever before_."

_The thunder rumbles…the lightning strikes._

That couldn't have happened at a more convenient time… When he said that to me, it felt like a bolt of lightning circulated throughout my entire body… No one has ever said to me; not Eve; not any of my exes. Old timer's say it best: _when a person gives "their everything" to you, Cupid's arrow hits your heart, sending a bolt of love through every inch of your being_… I felt that bolt…and I made love to him all night long.

I can't see myself separating from him, not after he gave me "his everything".

Just the feeling of being inside of him is like a dream come true… A peace that is wordless, indescribable – that is what Damien's touch is to me. As the storm continues to rumble and pour, my spirit falls deeper in love…_with the man that stole my heart_.

_Damien, I love you…and I promise to never let you go – to eternally allow you to feel me near you._

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Opening Theme 2 – "Chikyuugi (Globe)" by Matsuzawa Yumi)<em>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 19 – <strong>**Papa Was a Rolling Stone**_

* * *

><p>It is now 1:27 AM – the scheduled arrival time of Pope Leonard's private jet. The scarlet moon rests quietly in the early morning sky. The stars idly stand by, shimmering with tranquil beauty. King Henry received a phone call from the Pope about an hour ago, and patiently awaits his friend's arrival.<p>

Aldington Manor isn't as large and prestigious as his main home, Rutherford Chateau, but it's just as cozy. The furniture within his lavish mansion is soft enough to put one to sleep – the King's most favored of attributes about his secondary home. Right now, he's enjoying a book of dark poetry to pass the time.

He recites his favorite poem aloud and with fluid tongue:

_"Souls of darkness awaken, sound your loneliness with agonized melody;_

_Denizens of the dead, rise again;_

_Underneath the crimson moon;_

_Innocent children of the night, walk the earth to find your lost host._

_Souls of darkness resound, come forth with ravenous hunger;_

_Craving appetites, yearning for mana's sweet nectar;_

_Travel this world till sunrise, searching for your lost treasure;_

_Reclaim the spirit, reclaim the ghost."_

A delighted smile decorates his handsome face… King Henry adores dark poetry, and finds comfort in partaking of its lyrical antidote; a remedy that cures him of the stress of daily office chores. As one of the most esteemed members of the Church, his commitment to the Count's cause is untarnished. The King's not afraid to exercise his political power, in order to make Count Valdo's dreams come true. Henry will even risk his life for his fellow Patriarch, and has proven this with the majority of his former endeavors.

("Our support system is dying…"), reflects the King, closing his book of poetry with a gentle left hand. In his heart, he knows that the Church is beginning to fall; however, he's stubborn and tenacious enough to stand by the Count's side to the very end. Henry lounges in his recliner, gazing at the prismatic glint of his study's chandelier. ("…Just like a prism before a shadow, the Church has lost its luster. Our Gideonite support groups are also beginning to turn their backs on us. Due to the shortage of job openings, I've heard more complaints than I can handle. It's no wonder as to why Sister Mary Victoria was the best person for this position… That girl has all the patience in the world… Speaking of _patience_, I wonder when she'll be…_released_.")

A deceptive leer crosses his face, signifying his unjust intentions… However, before he's able to formulate a plan, his butler steps in and makes an announcement.

"Your Majesty, good news", begins the Irish butler, grasping the King's undivided attention. "His Holiness, Pope Leonard de Bleus, has arrived. He requests permission to enter your private chambers. Shall I invite him in?"

"You may. Thank you, Bono."

"As you wish, Your Majesty", the elderly manservant excuses himself, heading to the center of the hallway. He meets with the Pope, who is dressed like an ordinary civilian: without his holy robes, donning the attire of a normal man. "The King accepts your verbal admission. Follow me, Your Holiness."

"Thank you", humbly responds the soft-spoken ecclesiast.

Bono leads the Pope into the King's study, stands to the right side of the threshold and allows the ecclesiast access with a bow and a pointing left hand. King Henry closes his eyes, expecting the worst out of the Pope's visitation. However, he chooses to remain unpredictable by sitting up and looking his old friend in his eyes.

"Have a seat, Leo", he invites.

"Thank you, Henry", the Pope has a seat in the King's sofa.

"It's been 50 years since you've visited this mansion. What brings you back, old friend?"

"Regrets", the soft-spoken ecclesiast lowers his head.

King Henry has never seen Pope Leonard behave so…_shamefully_. As a matter of fact, Pope Leonard's usually the most charismatic of the Patriarchs – _his character never falters and strikes all spectators with admiration_… But, tonight, he seems so different.

"Leo…what's wrong?" the King stands from his recliner, sitting next to the shamed Pope.

_"My heart's not in this anymore, that's what."_

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying…that I'm…" the Pope hesitates, taking a moment to gather his courage.

"You're leaving us, aren't you?" Henry guesses, receiving an approving nod from his old friend. The thought of having the worst-case scenario happen brings the King to a mode of disappointment. He holds his head, realizing that the Church really is starting to crumble. "Why, Leo…? Why are you leaving us, just like everyone else? Have we treated you unfairly?"

"I'm tired of lying to myself – saying that I truly support Valdo, after what he did to me", confesses the soft-spoken ecclesiast. King Henry already knows why Pope Leonard's leaving…he just refuses to say anything about it. The Pope stands from the sofa, and walks towards the center of the room. "The curse implanted on my chest hurts just as much as the Count's negligence… I refuse to take it anymore!"

"I know it does, Leo", the King stands from the sofa, walks up to his old friend and cradles against his back. Henry's right hand glows with dark energy; it's gentle glow fascinates the Pope. With one touch to Leonard's chest, the King biologically recreates the Pope's missing chest parts from the inside out. Leonard is amazed by the King's healing power. "That was a light surge of my existence. Give your wound time to recover, and you'll be just fine… _Although, there's a 'quicker way' to heal your body_."

"What must I do?"

"My, my…how desperate of you", giggles the amused monarch, before licking his friend's bite mark.

Leonard feels a pleasing shock travel his entire body frame.

"Henry…what are you doing?" blushes the impulsively weak ecclesiast.

"The 'quicker way'… This _is_ what you want, right?"

"I don't think I can…do this."

"But, I want to", the King holds his old friend around his waist, physically confessing his most desired of cravings. "Leo, I've _always_ wanted to be close to you… It was always 'Valdo, Valdo, Valdo'; never me, the one who actually wanted you…_forever_. The last time you came here, I wanted to take you for myself; to save you from the heartache that would one day…_make you do something like this_."

Leonard steps away from Henry, sharply turning on his heel to his amorous companion… He sees a look that Henry's always given him: _the stare of longing that the King only reserves only for him_. The Pope doesn't know how to take such strong feelings… He's never felt them, so it's kind of shocking.

"Henry…are you saying that…you're…?"

"I've been in love with you for 359 years", confesses the smiling monarch, placing his hands behind his back. Leonard remains silent, listening to his fellow Patriarch's romantic words. "3,147,049.1424 hours and counting… I've done the math, and I'm _surprised_ by the amount of time that has past. Do you not remember, how you comforted me when Katherine parted ways with us?"

Now that the Pope thinks about it, he was the one who brought peace to Henry's heart during his depression… That marked the first time the King felt the love of another man. Leonard's arms were warm, gentle and nurturing. Because of that one moment, when they stared at the moon together…Henry's soul felt complete, after suffering centuries of unreciprocated love.

"Leo, look at me", the Pope focuses his attention on the King. Henry walks up to his adored companion, and holds him close… Leonard returns his admirer's embrace, closing his eyes to a man that cares for him. Henry whispers into Leonard's left ear, speaking with romantic verse. "Leave or stay with the Church…I don't care. Living without you… That pain burns _deeper_ than the fires of the Underworld, and I refuse to feel it any longer. I may be a greedy, senile and foolish old man…_but I'd rather be 'a fool' for you, than anyone else_."

"Henry…"

_"Don't say it, Leo…" pleads the emotional monarch, striking his old friend with silence. King Henry's embrace becomes greedy, stubborn and mournful. "…Don't tell me that you're going to leave me behind!"_

"Then, come with me", the soft-spoken ecclesiast extends, sending a wave of guilt through the King's spirit. Henry releases Leonard, turning his back to him. The Pope folds his arms with a smile. "I knew that'd shut you up, Henry. It's amazing how weak-willed you become under stress. It's kind of…_cute_."

_"It's not that I don't want to…I just…" _

"…You're _afraid_ to, right?" Henry doesn't answer back. Leonard walks up to his admirer, and plants a soft kiss on the King's left cheek. "I'm going to the other side, Henry. Follow me or stay here, under the Count's protection. Either way, I'll love you back… I promise."

"Leo…" the King receives the Pope's arms, allowing backed-up tears to fall from his mournful eyes.

"Thank you for loving me. If only you were strong enough to fight your fear…"

"…Make love to me, before you go", gently pleads the emotional monarch.

"I'm not going to do that to you. I'm not a male courtier, nor am I an escort. I make love to someone because I want to, not because it's an obligation…or a means to heal someone's broken feelings… I'm not led to make love to you, Henry – you're too weak-willed for me. I need a man who…"

Henry turns his head away in tears, "God …"

"Look at me, Henry", patiently commands the soft-spoken ecclesiast. The King looks into Leonard's warm eyes, seeing tears building up in them. "Henry…I love you, too… I've _always_ loved you, but I need a man who can support me in my time of need. You're not there yet, so I can't have you… If you're willing to be that man for me, then you know where to find me… I've scheduled an appointment with Father Andrew by 8:00 AM. I'll be living there for the time being, and it'd help if you take that curse off of Lord Frederic."

"How did you know about–…?"

"It's no secret, everyone knows about it", interrupts the Pope. A sting of shame stabs at the King's spirit, after hearing the displeasure in Leonard's voice. "Henry, what we're doing is wrong…very, _very_ wrong. I know you probably won't listen to me, but I've given you my advice. Do what you want from now on… But, like I said before – if you're willing to be 'that man' for me…_you know where to find me_."

Henry feels his heartbeat… It's a feeling that many men have felt – a sensation that can only be experienced when your spirit has been humbled. This feeling is called "romantic humility". Some might address it as "the moment I fell deeper in love"; others haven't the words to describe the experience.

Leonard leaves Henry with a kiss to his left cheek.

The moment that the Pope walked out on him, marked the beginning of a change in the King's life. As a vampire, Henry follows his impulses beyond anything else. He does what he feels is right, hoping that things will turn out for the better. What he asks himself now is: "How will I make things right?"

_What will the King do: remain a valued Patriarch of the Church, or chase after the one that he loves?_

* * *

><p>The Dark Lord is disturbed… Something heavy has settled in his spirit – a longing for something that's missing. Never in his life has he felt this kind of pain; the kind that fills one with guilt and shame.<p>

He gazes into the crimson moon's ominous glow, wondering what that "something" could be.

("Why does my heart trouble me so?") Count Valdo places his right fist onto his chest, feeling the strong rhythm of his age-old heartbeat. ("My heart…it beats with sadness… Why?")

"Lord Valdo…" the Archbishop approaches his lover, cradling against his strong back. The Lord of the Night looks over his left shoulder, feeling the sensation of brainwashed servant's breath tickling his neck. The amorous Dietrich places his strong chin on the Count's shoulder, enjoying the feel of his master's cold skin. "…Does something trouble you? You seem…melancholic, almost depressed."

"I'm just fine. However, some unexplained emotion has somehow…_saddened me_."

"Living alone does that to a person, My Lord."

"Living alone, you say?" the thought leads the Count to his armoire, where he keeps a record of his fondest memories locked away. He turns the latch attacked to the handle, opens it and fetches an old photo album from the top shelf. The Archbishop watches his Lord carry the photo album to his bed, and have a seat on its soft mattress. Count Valdo opens the album and begins skimming through its beautifully laminated pages. "Come, sit with me. I wish to show you something."

"What is my, My Lord?" Thaddeus joins his master at bedside.

"An old photo that's been on my mind… I'm trying to find it."

"What's the purpose of your search, My Lord?"

"Loneliness – the thing that's eating away at my heart. It's an annoying feeling, and it's starting to bother me… Forgive my rudeness, Thaddeus. I do not mean to belittle your worth to me. _This_ loneliness is much different from the one you helped me to conquer… Your value to me is beyond measure, and I humbly thank you for returning my affections."

"I aim to please, My Lord", smiles the Archbishop, as he cradles against his master's strong body. Count Valdo comes across a very old picture of him holding a newborn baby boy, standing next to a female dressed in feminine garments reminiscent of a Qing Dynasty official. Thaddeus becomes curious. "I see _you_ in the picture, but who are these peoples, My Lord?"

"One of my former courtesans, Mai-Ling, and our son, Johannes, when he was only a little babe. The lady you see in the picture is a Kyonshī – a hopping vampire that impressed me with her eternal beauty… That was a _long_ time ago by now."

Thaddeus is a bit disturbed by his Lord's explanation, believing him to be reconsidering his relationship with his son's birthmother. Lord Valdo notices his servant's emotional state… This image of innocence places a smile on the Dark Lord's snow-white profile.

"What troubles you, Thaddeus?"

"If you wish to reunite with her, I understand", depressingly answers the amorous Dietrich.

"Don't say such trivial things, boy", Count Valdo's warm tone attracts his betrothed's attention. The Lord of the Night strokes his lover's silky hair with her right hand. "I only wish to have my son back in my life. Mai-Ling is an affair of the past; besides, I grew tired of her attempting to drain me of my life force. She was quite the annoyance…and I _detest_ annoying women."

"Oh, for a second there, I…" the ecclesiast's worrisome words are silenced with a kiss to his cheek.

The Dark Lord gently pulls his lips away from his lover. The amorous Dietrich gazes into his master's warm eyes, trying his hardest not to blush. Count Valdo stands from his bed, closes his photo album and carries it back to his armoire. Thaddeus watches his master's calm behavior, wondering what he could be planning.

"Would you like to follow me to Rutherford, Thaddeus?" the Dark Lord places his album on the top shelf, and begins looking through his clothes for his best travelling suit. "I can't wait any longer – I'm going to bring my son back home with me. Johannes _needs_ to be around me, his father…_not a horde of emotional pretenders_."

"You're going to Infinity HQ?"

"Of course. Johannes's presence will complete our family. Do you not wish to meet your future stepson?"

"Yes, I'd love to", the Archbishop stands to his feet, and joins his Lord to fetch his holy garments.

"Dress as you will, but make yourself presentable. I want my son to recognize you as a professional. A good first impression is the _best_ impression, after all."

"Do you think he'll come with us without a fight?"

"I'll hear none of your nonsense talk, love", the Count smacks his lover on his buttocks with his left hand, hushing Thaddeus's concerned questionnaire. The Archbishop blushes, and hides his face from his Lord. The Master Vampire smiles upon his betrothed's sheepish nature. "We've a little way to go, before we reach Rutherford. It should take us a few hours to get there. I'm sure Father Andrew's security systems will be active upon our arrival. Now, get dressed."

"Yes, My Lord."

_Count Valdo has finally decided to reunite with his son._

Will Brother Johnny take to his father's invitation peacefully, or will the Lord of the Night force the hyperactive Strigoi to leave his friends? Nothing positive is to be expected for this grim reunion… Once again, the inevitable will happen:_ _a few hearts will be broken, and many lives will be in danger in the process.__

* * *

><p>Father Andrew has just finished readjusting the last of Sister Eve's circuitry. Apparently, the rebellious femme cyborg rewired herself more thoroughly than originally expected. As of now, she's physically recovering from her treatment via one of her creator's cybernetic containment tubes.<p>

In the meantime, the Sound Master's taking a well-deserved break, indulging in the latest issue of _Black Mask magazine_. He enjoys leaning about the latest in fashion, especially from one of the country's best-selling monthlies… All of a sudden, Father Andrew's oversensitive hearing receives a travelling verbal rebound.

_"…I only wish to have my son back in my life…" quotes the travelling echo._

The Cyber-technologist recognizes the voice within the reverberation – _those were the words of the Count_. The verse contained within the echo was filled with a considerable amount of emotion. That can only mean one thing…

"He's coming here…for Johnny", concludes the Sound Master. Father Andrew closes his magazine, stands from his chair and heads over to his supercomputer. He speaks to his security system. "T.A.T.U., we've got some unwanted company headed our way. Increase all security devices to Level 5: Red. Make sure to keep all entities within HQ parameters under constant surveillance."

"Switching all devices to Level 5: Red…" responds the supercomputer, as it begins making automatic adjustments to its system. Every active laser, satellite and motion sensory unit within the area is systematically modified in less than 10 seconds. T.A.T.U. reports the full-system modification. "Level 5: Red, activated. Full protection will be available in T – 5 seconds. Shall I inform all residents of the impending danger, Father Andrew?"

"That'll do the trick, T.A.T.U. Also, make sure to keep Lord Frederic safely contained. We don't want him reacting to the Count's dark energies. One dose of his existence, and the old buzzard will run amuck and start killing people. A Dietrich is _ten-times more_ excitable than a normal vampire… Remember that, T.A.T.U."

"Understood, Father Andrew", the Sound Master departs from his supercomputer. A cybernetic image of a beautiful woman appears on the monitor. "Father Andrew, what are your plans?"

Before entering his security code into his laboratory's keypad, the ageless Scotsman pauses and gives T.A.T.U. his answer.

"I can feel him, T.A.T.U…"

"Feel who, Father Andrew?"

"…Fred…he's unable to fight his hunger anymore. Pretty soon, he'll lash out at anyone that comes near him. The darkness implanted inside of his body will explode in a few hours. I'm going to see if I can contain that darkness with my existence of sound."

"Father Andrew, that's far too dangerous!" panics the supercomputer.

"I'll be all right, so don't you worry about me… Hmph! I forgot – I built you with your own A.I. I don't know _why_ I'm surprised to see you caring about me, but…I can't lie and say that I'm not. _Mercies…_ I guess I really am a genius after all… But, once again, I shouldn't be surprised. You _are_ one of my greatest successes, after all."

"Just come back alive, Father Andrew…for Damien", pleads the caring security system.

"How do you know about that?" the Cyber-technologist looks to his supercomputer with confused expression. T.A.T.U. bites her bottom lip, realizing that he's said too much. "T.A.T.U., answer me. How do you know about that? I never talk about my personal feelings to my associates, at least the ones that I work with."

The supercomputer can't hide the truth from her creator anymore… She takes a deep breath, composes herself and makes a confession.

"Forgive me, Father Andrew… I overheard you talking in your sleep, so my A.I. registered concerned emotions. I know you only think of me as your 'associate', but I look to you as a friend, Father Andrew. Please, if you ever need to talk to someone about your feelings, you have me – your security system."

T.A.T.U.'s human-like concerns are quite flattering to the ageless Scotsman. Just the thought of a machine trying to console him tickles at his old soul for a spell.

"Ha! I never thought I'd see the day…" Father Andrew enters his password into the laboratory's security keypad. "…One of my machines is giving me a talk. Ah, the spoils of being an inventor... But, T.A.T.U, you shouldn't concern yourself with me. I've been healing myself emotionally for _hundreds_ of years. I'll be just fine."

"But, Father Andrew…" the laboratory's cybernetic security door opens.

"Just protect the facility while I'm gone, T.A.T.U.", the Cyber-technologist steps through the door, coming to a halt after crossing through the threshold. He turns on his heel, looking at T.A.T.U.'s computerized image with a loving smile. The supercomputer is touched by her creator's warm expression, watching his image being veiled by the closing security door. "Thanks for your concerns, my friend. I'll return…with my life."

The security door shuts tight, automatically deactivating the lighting within the laboratory. T.A.T.U. sighs, holding her bare neon-colored body in a mode of contentment.

("I better keep a sharp eye on things"), meditates the supercomputer, realizing that her master's dealing with a _very_ dangerous situation. ("A Dietrich is an SSS Class life form. If he engages in battle with Lord Frederic, he'll surely suffer fatal injuries. That's something I _can't_ risk with mere Level 5 security reinforcements… _Switching to Level 6: Black – full-protection within an expansion area of 2000 m_.")

T.A.T.U. automatically switches her systems to Level 6, covering a larger expansion area.

("Father Andrew, this is for your own good… Someday, you'll thank me for this.")

She knows that Father Andrew would scold her for doing this, but she's willing to risk punishment to save his life. At the end of the day, she's his creation… Her A.I.'s composition drives her to care for others, especially the man who gave her life. She ends her computer projection by switching her monitor into hibernation mode, having placed a great amount of faith in her automatic defenses.

* * *

><p>Brother Johnny stands near the eastern edges of the Halfway House's rooftop. He looks out into the distance, and places his left hand on his chest… An unexplained coldness has formed over his heart.<p>

("Why do I feel this way?") the empathic nightwalker holds himself, feeling disturbed by the cold sensation that's caged his heart. ("Emptiness… I've never felt this way before. Is it because I miss my mother? I call her almost every single day… So why – why do I feel this way?")

"What ya up to?" Brother Johnny looks over his left shoulder to see Brother Heath approaching from the elevator. The emotional Strigoi gives his comrade a faint smile, which isn't like him. "I see – full of jumbled-up thoughts. What's on your mind, man?"

"Nothing, just thinking", the Gunslinger joins Brother Johnny, standing to the left of his rookie comrade.

"Just thinking, huh?" laughs the West Virginian Methuselah. "If you're 'just thinking', then why do you look like someone just shot your house dog?"

"It's not funny!" snaps the offended Strigoi.

"I know, but it's still cute – watching big guys like us attempting to hide our feelings."

Brother Johnny turns his head away from his facetious comrade, "I'd like to be alone, if you don't mind."

"No can do. Real friends don't walk away from their loved ones when they become weak."

Brother Heath pats his comrade on the back with his right hand, toughening his rookie with brotherly love. The emotional Strigoi turns around and attempts to punch the Methuselah in the nose; however, the Gunslinger's keen sense of sight causes him to hastily react: Heath holds his left hand forward and catches the rookie's shooting right fist… Brother Johnny's crying…allowing a pool of unexplained pain to drip from his eyes.

Brother Heath refuses to lose his patience with a suffering man.

"Why…?" cries the confused rookie. "Why do I feel like this…?"

"Feel like what?"

"…Like…something's missing inside of me!"

"I know the feeling, man…" Brother Heath places his right hand on the rookie's left shoulder. "…Not being complete. That's the worst feeling in the world, but it's something that we, people who aren't even alive, have to live with. I died once, but I was brought back to life… Would you believe me…if I told you that I used to be an outlaw of the Old West?"

The Gunslinger's reminiscent words strike the rookie operative with curiosity. Brother Johnny lifts his head, looking at how "modern" Brother Heath appears. To hear such a thing is…quite captivating.

"Yeah, I'm actually the oldest of the Methuselahs, and Father Andrew's first completed subject", confesses the red-haired cyborg. Brother Heath looks off into the distance, remembering his past life. Brother Johnny listens to his friend's testimony with intrigued expression. "July 14th, 1881… I was shot to death by Sheriff Pat Garrett and his posse. Those bastards jumped me when I was going to check up on my girlfriend, Paulita. I supposedly died that night, but fate said otherwise… Father Andrew found me during his travels in New Mexico, took me back to his laboratory and injected me with vampire blood… After several failed attempts, I was revived completely and became the first member of the New Jacks. I've been an active dispatch unit since 1998. Still, this old cowboy's seen many, _many_ years without aging past 21."

"Brother Heath, what are you saying? Who are you really?"

"Looks like your mama didn't tell you the famous tale…" Brother Heath summons a single spectral handgun into his right grasp. He twirls his firearm on his index finger five times, before holding it correctly in his hand with perfect aim. The Gunslinger reintroduces himself to his ally. "…I'm one of the legends of the Lincoln County War; the ladies' man with the unadorned Mexican sombrero. I'm the Old West's most famous name – William Henry McCarty, Jr. But, since you're my favorite little hombre, you can call me…'Billy the Kid'."

Brother Johnny's shocked beyond all belief! To think, one of America's greatest western legends is standing right in front of him… It's enough to make the Strigoi's head spin.

"Heath, are you serious about this…?" the Gunslinger retreats his spectral handgun into his existence.

"Yeah, I am. I'm THE tall tale that kids grew up hearing from their grandparents. I've seen a ton of bodies hit the pavement, and many more hearts broken… But, I'm not without a little guilt – I've broken some of those hearts with my _priceless_ good looks."

Brother Johnny becomes overexcited, speaking off of the top of his mind once again.

"Oooh! Is that why you act like an old pervert sometimes?" innocently questions the hopping nightwalker, before being hammered in the head by his comrade's right fist. Brother Johnny holds his cranium in a slight fit of pain. The Gunslinger folds his arms, looking upon the rookie in amusement. "Y~OWCH! I was just asking a question! You don't have to be so sensitive about it!"

"Get it right, kid – I _ain't_ no pervert; I'm a ladies' man. Old cowboys like me know how to _treat_ a sexy little mamacita, make her feel beautiful and whatnot. You should learn some manners, hombre."

"I still think you're an old pervert", Brother Johnny receives another hammering to his head. "OUCH! Okay, okay – you're not an old pervert! Just stop hitting me already!"

"Hmph! You better watch your mouth, or I just might start to like ya, cowpoke", the Gunslinger's taken a liking to his comrade's confrontational behavior. The Strigoi receives his senior's right arm around his shoulders. "Come on, hombre. Let's stroll around for a spell. If you give 'an old pervert' like me a chance, you'll have yourself a friend to the end. So settle down and become a member of my 'little posse', alright?"

"Um, okay…Billy", hearing the Strigoi address him by his real first name brings a smile to the old hero's handsome face. "Let's go…um…stroll around. Whatever that means."

"Cute, kid, _real_ cute. Now, let's get going."

As the two comrades head towards the elevator, Brother Johnny's curiosity gets the best of him.

"Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh!" he excites, hopping happily around his senior.

"What's up, cowpoke?"

"Tell me about your adventures!"

"Well, that shouldn't be too hard to remember", laughs the humored Gunslinger.

Having admitted to his junior about his past life, Brother Heath has a feeling that he'll have someone else to talk to about his troubles. However, listening from high above…_is the stealthy Father Andrew_.

He had a feeling that Brother Heath wouldn't be able to keep their secret for long.

As one of the original Methuselahs, the Gunslinger's prone to his emotions. He's an _imperfect_ Methuselah that's _more_ _human_ than anyone else in his ranks. Despite what happened, the ageless Scotsman feels no anger towards his creation… If anything…he's _happy_ that Brother Heath's made another friend.

("T – 6 hours and counting…") the Cyber-technologist has carefully calculated the arrival time of the enemy party. He holds his left hand into his line of vision, realizing that he doesn't have much time to pacify my Great-grandfather's condition. ("…If I can't do something to help him with my power, then perhaps…")

An ingenious idea suddenly comes to mind!

("…Perhaps I can… Yes! That's it – that's exactly what he needs!")

* * *

><p>Grandpa Christopher stands outside of his father's containment room, wondering how much longer Grandpa Frederic's going to suffer. He's just met his father for the first time, and the first thing he experiences…is seeing the old man in a <em>world<em> of spiritual anguish. The suffering Dietrich walks to the viewing window, gazing upon his son's mournful image with pitch-black eyes.

Even his vision's been encased in darkness.

_"Chris…to…pher…" breathes the legendary protagonist._

"Yes, dad?"

_"…Help…me…I…can't…" Grandpa Frederic begins to cry black tears, and his breathing becomes agitated._

"Don't speak, dad!" Grandpa Christopher places his hands on the viewing window, trying his best not to cry. He wants to be strong for his father, who's unable to control his bloodlust. "Dad, just rest… Father Andrew will come up with something, I just know it. So, please, take it easy…and don't talk like you're leaving me again!"

_"Son…papa…loves you…so much…"_

"I love you too, dad", hearing his father say those words to him triggers the senior radical's emotions.

For the first time in weeks, my Grandfather sheds tears… But, this time…his tears are filled with sadness.

"Dad, please, don't leave me, again!" he pleads, trying his best to help his father fight the darkness.

_"Chris…to…pher…I…can't see your face…" the King's existence has taken over the last inch of my Great-grandfather's being. Uncle Alexander arrives, having sensed his friend's suffering from afar. Father Andrew races down the hallway, hearing his comrade's suffering from afar. "GUH…H-H-H-AAAHHHHHHH…!"_

Father Andrew arrives, standing at his friends' side in shock of what happing… _Great-grandfather Frederic's inner darkness has surfaced as an aura of nightmarish spectral energy!_

"Jesus! What's happening to him…?" gasps the Crusnik Lord.

"He's spiritually mutating into a full-fledged Dietrich, but I won't let that happen", Father Andrew holds his hands against the viewing window, sending a sharp sound wave through the solid surface. "Come on, Echoes, synchronize his energies into one."

"Do what…?" gasps the Crusnik Lord.

"You're not going to extract the darkness from him…?" seconds my emotional Grandfather.

"I can't, but Henry can. The best thing to do is synchronize his energies into one, which will allow him to freely control its power without being consumed by it. If we tried extracting it _now_, Frederic would surely die."

The sound waves begin disrupting the darkness with Grandpa Frederic's body, causing him to become increasingly hostile. He holds his head, trying to drown out the disruption waves… And then, he loses patience, balling his right fist in overwhelming anger!

"LET MET OUT…!" demands the rampaging Dietrich, before running to the opposite wall and punching a hole through it with his bare right fist!

His son and his comrades are shocked by how powerful he's become. Every innocent near the chaotic scene is frightened by the reckless display of physical fortitude.

Father Andrew calms his sound waves, realizing that his power alone won't stop the Dietrich's rampage.

"Frederic, stop!" demands the Cyber-technologist.

"Father, control it!" seconds my Grandfather.

"It's too late", angers the Crusnik Lord, realizing that there's no other way now – he has to put a stop to Grandpa Frederic's dangerous endeavors. His comrades listen to his every word. "We have to stop him ourselves. There's no talking to him anymore… Just look at him."

Father Andrew and Grandpa Christopher pay close attention to the legendary protagonist's actions.

Grandpa Frederic examines the many innocent residents of Infinity HQ, craving the taste of blood, "I want it… Blood! FRESH BLOOD! Feed me… FEED ME, NOW!"

Grandpa Frederic begins lashing out at innocents, but Uncle Alexander won't have it… The Crusnik Lord places his right hand on the containment room's viewing window. Instantly, the impenetrable glass changes into a thick board of Crimson Matter; it decomposes into celluloid dust just seconds after mutation.

"Forgive me, Christopher. I may have to hurt him."

"What did you say…?" shrieks my Grandfather in shock. Uncle Alexander leaps through the wide windowpane, lands on his feet and chases after his old friend, before the mindless nightwalker does something rash. Grandpa Christopher chases after his pursuing comrade. "Hey, you're not going without me! If anyone's going to knock some sense into him, it's going to be me!"

"Well, at least this won't be another boring day", sighs the easygoing Cyber-technologist. Father Andrew touches his badge, and communicates with the A.I. of every active high-ranked Methuselah on base. "Randy, Ronnie, PJ, Red, Jojo, Jay, Kev – proceed to the courtyard, stat! Frederic's loose and is running amuck!"

"We're on it!" answers the Methuselahs from their badges' microphones.

Brother Heath looks to his new friend with a smile. Brother Johnny scratches his head, looking at his senior in a mode of confusion.

"Um…what's going on, Billy?"

"It's a Code Red situation", reports Brother Heath, summoning spectral handguns from his existence. "You stay here, cowpoke. We don't need rookies in an SSS Class battle."

"Will you be all right, Aniki (Big Brother)?"

"Trust me, my aim's just as deadly as my smile", Brother Heath races forward into action, leaving his comrade behind. "Stay put, hombre! I'll be back soon!"

Brother Johnny watches his new friend race off to join the pacification of my Great-grandfather… However, a spontaneous feeling of emptiness curses the Strigoi's chest once again. This time…_it feels ten-times colder than before_. He holds himself, wondering why he's feeling this way.

_"What's wrong with me…? Why do I feel…so cold and empty…?"_

("Because you've not with _me_, my son"), a voice speaks to the Strigoi from the depths of his soul. This voice makes Brother Johnny collapse to the ground in overwhelming fear. The Count's voice sends terrifying chills down his son's spine. ("I'm coming for you, Johannes. Soon…very soon… I will have you back in my life.")

"Who are you…?" Brother Johnny holds his head, attempting to drown out the voice of his malevolent father. "Get out… GET OUT OF MY HEAD…!"

("Awaken, my son… Show the world what you _truly_ are.")

_"No…I won't become that THING ever again!"_

("Don't fight it, Johannes… Don't fight the hunger for life energy, or it will surely _kill_ you. Kyonshī cannot live on happiness alone; you, more than anyone else, should be well aware of that.")

_"SHUT UP!"_

("Soon, my son… _Soon_, we will be a happy little family.")

_"Okasan…tasukete (Mother…help me)", his father's laughter mocks the Strigoi, making him shed tears of confusion. Brother Jonathan and Brother Joshua arrive, having heard their comrade's screams from down the hall. The terrified rookie holds onto his comrades in overwhelming fear. "Don't let him get me…!"_

"What's wrong, Johnny?" questions Brother Joshua.

"Who are you talking about?" seconds Brother Jonathan.

_"My father… He's…coming for me. Don't let him take me away…!"_

"Snap out of it!" Brother Jonathan slaps his fellow rookie, snapping Brother Johnny out of his mode of panic. The concerned elder rookie holds his comrade close. Brother Joshua places his right hand on his junior rookie's head, supporting his friend in his time of suffering. "No one's going to let him take you away. You hear me? Your father's not going to take you away from us! We won't let him use you for his sick games, so stop crying already! You'll lose your life energy if you become sad…remember?"

"We're afraid of Count Valdo, too", continues Brother Joshua, showing calmer expressions compared to his brother, who is near tears. The tough Twin balls his free left fist, attempting to wring the fear out of his body. "I know we probably won't be enough to stop him, but we can try… Count Valdo's stronger than all of us _combined_; however, we _won't_ back down from him. So, rest assured, Johnny…you're not going anywhere."

"If you want protection from the Count, you should follow us", an unfamiliar voice sounds from the entrance to the eastern wing. The rookies turn their attention to the entrance, looking upon a very peculiar image – the hooded Niccolò and Leonard have arrived. The former Church officials smile upon the image of their future comrades. The former Pope extends their services to the rookies. "Count Valdo is on his way here. If you boys need to be hid, we're more than happy to help."

"Pope Leonard…?" gasps Brother Jonathan.

"…And Cardinal Niccolò, too?" the rookies stand to their feet, wondering why the hooded figures have arrived. Brother Joshua becomes serious. "What are you two planning? Why should we trust you?"

"Because, giovane (young man), we're on your side now", the Former Cardinal retrieves a pocketbook form his back jacket, and shows his acquired Goldener Phönixkreuz badge to the rookies. The Former Pope does the same thing, shocking the rookies of all words. "We ask that you bambinos (boys) come with us. Father Andrew asked us to escort you boys off the premises, if something like this were to happen."

"Don't worry yourselves, boys", reassures the Former Pope, retreating his badge into his pocket. Niccolò does the same thing, as his old friend extends his left hand to the rookies. "You're in good hands. Now, let's go."

The new officials are already on the move… Brother John joins the helpful nightwalkers. The Twins follow their comrades out of the hallway, turning the corner to the exit.

"Where are we going?" questions Brother Jonathan.

"The Maximum Security Ward", answers the Former Pope. "Father Andrew's just placed the entire area under Level 5 security, but it feels more like a Level 6. You boys should be safe in there, while we head outside to assist the others with the current events."

"When did you two arrive?" seconds Brother Johnny.

"This morning, around 6:30 AM", answers the Former Cardinal, as the group arrives to the nearest exit. The party bursts through the automatic door, and races towards the MS Ward, dodging a horde of panicking civilians along the way. "How inconvenient – having everyone run around during a confrontation."

"Out of the way, people!" Leonard shoves his way through the civilians, making way for his party.

T.A.T.U. speaks to the mass of panicking civilians from the speakers around the area, "Emergency procedures. This is a Code Red warning – return to your homes, immediately. I repeat, this is a Code Red warning – return to your homes, immediately."

Brother Johnny's never seen such discord in his entire life… So much fear – it's enough to drive a person insane. He feels the cold spot in his chest, wondering what will become of his father's arrival. As he makes his way to the Maximum Security Ward with his comrades, the air suddenly feels much colder... What could this mysterious sensation possibly mean?

* * *

><p>The fleeing party makes it to the MS Ward's security keypad. Niccolò enters the access code of 0817695, pressing the ENTER key afterwards. The security door opens, allowing the party to proceed forward.<p>

"Let's go", Niccolò and Leonard leads the rookies into the MS Ward. The Former Pope gives the younger trio specific orders. "We're going to confine you boys inside of MS House 8 with Mary Victoria and Jorge. Don't go _anywhere_ near the security doors unless we open them for you. We'll return as soon as we can."

"Yes, sir", understands the rookie radicals.

After another minute or two of running, the party makes it to MS House 8. The Vestal and the Necromancer are busy listening to the chaos outside of their prison walls… The sounds of screaming has them wondering what's happening around them.

"What on earth's going on out there?" Sister Mary Victoria stands on her bed, and peers out of her barred window. She sees the image of residents running towards the Hideaway House. "What's gotten them so jittery? I can't use my existence, so I can't sense any territorial power… I wish I could help them."

"Why do you want to help them, monja (nun)?" smiles the unmasked Rudo, turning around on his cell's mattress. He looks at his housemate with pondering expression. "That's a good question… I ask myself this too."

"I just feel like something bad is about to happen… I don't like it one bit."

"Sí, yo también (Yeah, me too)", the security door opens, and the party has arrived. Mary Victoria and Jorge behold the arrival of their former superiors and their band of rookies. The inmates excite to see a set of familiar faces. "Cardinal Niccolò…? Pope Leonard…? Is that really you…?"

"Thank God, we're so glad to see you!" the newest recruits look to their allies with delighted expression. Sister Mary Victoria approaches her cell's protective cage, but is repulsed by the barrier surrounding it. She laughs at herself, backing away from the draining shock of ionic currents. "Silly me. I almost forgot about our cages. But, Your Holinesses, what are you doing here?"

"We are with Infinity now", confesses the Former Cardinal, shocking his former subordinates.

"Are you serious, Your Holiness…?"

"What made you switch sides…?" seconds the equally stunned Necromancer.

"The Count's treachery can freeze the heart of the warmest of men…" answers the Former Pope, relieving himself of his hood. The Former Cardinal does the same thing… The rookies are stunned to know the true faces of their former enemies. "…But, it can also open the eyes of the ignorant. We're but two men who have walked blindly through Count Valdo's shadow for centuries. It would be wise of you two to do the same thing, and join Infinity in the fight against that heartless mostro (monster)."

"Danielson…Myers, is that you?" Brother Johnny speaks up for his fellow rookies… The two former ecclesiasts turn to the rookies, revealing the shocking truth. Brother Johnny's guess was absolutely correct – the Former Cardinal Niccolò Giuliani is Bryan Danielson; better known to the WWE Universe as _Daniel Bryan_. And, the Former Pope Leonard de Bleus is Brian Myers; better known to the WWE Universe as _Curt Hawkins_. "I had no idea you two were Italian, let alone two of the _strongest_ figures of the Church. This is really…_bizarre_."

"Mary Victoria, Jorge, keep these children company", requests the Former Cardinal.

"Sure…for Infinity", salutes the beautiful Vestal.

"For Infinity", seconds the giggling Necromancer.

"Grazie, vecchi amici (Thank you, old friends)", Niccolò looks to his former superior with a smile. "Let's get going, Leo. Time is of the essence."

"Okay", the former ecclesiasts exit the MS House, allowing the security door to close behind them.

As the House is secured by the T.A.T.U.'s Level 6 regulations, the Strigoi begins feeling a cold emptiness in his chest, once again… It feels _much_ _colder_ than before, almost as if his heart were frozen in a block of ice… He still doesn't understand what this feeling means.

_Does it have something to do with his father's presence…or, is it something else?_

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, our parties have just left from our rescheduled meeting with Tamia. Currently, we're on our way to Aldington. Nattie says we'll be there in less than 4 hours; however, I've been feeling the most grim tightness in my chest for the past few minutes… No, its' been about an hour by now.<p>

"What's wrong, Stu?" Stephen questions, noticing my uneasy expressions through the rear-view mirror.

_"Nothing…at least I hope it's just that."_

"Feeling nervous?" Raj guesses.

_"No, it's not that… I feel like…like someone I know is in a lot of pain."_

"I feel the same way, too", Damien seconds, holding himself in agitation. "I don't quite understand it myself, but I just don't feel right. It's…weird, and rather bothersome."

"Maybe it's one of those passing jitters", smiles the carefree driver, leading our automotive cruise along the European countryside.

_"Passing jitters?" I reiterate in confusion._

"Aye, passing jitters – the thing you get when you're halfway to a new location. It happens all the time."

_"If your skin crawls in the process, then perhaps that's what we're experiencing."_

"I'm unable to pass this as just a simple jitter", my boy's contrary sentiments grasp our attention. "It feels like people are being hurt, and there's nothing we can do about it…_because we're so far away_."

"Let's try not to think that way, Damien", I hold my fiancé in my left arm, letting him lay his head on my shoulder. I feel the same way, but it's best to attempt thinking positively in times like this. "I'm pretty sure everything's just fine. We shouldn't worry ourselves when we're liable to encounter the King."

"You've a point about that, Stuart", agrees the reading Punjabi-Canadian, finishing the last of his Hindi novel. He closes his book, looking forward at the long road ahead. "We should be mentally ready for anything. Unnecessary emotions will only hinder our spiritual concentration."

"Exercising that old prowess, are we?" jests the Irishman.

"Flattery will get you nowhere in my world", snickers the sarcastic Time Bender.

"Oh, yeah right."

"Just drive", Raj giggles.

The King watches our party's every move, using the shadows of the surrounding woodlands as a means to spy on us… Henry sits patiently in his mansion's bedroom, contemplating our arrival. A gloomy smile decorates his face… That's not like him – to show such an expression.

Currently, the King's wrestling with what his next move will be.

After hearing his admired one's request, he doesn't know whether to carry out his mission…or to abort it all together. His heart's at an emotional standstill.

("What should I do?") King Henry deactivates his existence, attempting to formulate a plan of procedure. However, this proves to be much harder than originally expected. ("Should I attack them blindly? Should I negotiate with them? God, what must I do? It's bad enough that Frederic's lost control – I can feel him from here… So, how can I talk to the people that I've betrayed time and time again?")

An idea comes to mind.

The monarch stands from his bed, having reached a conclusion… He remembers his family's Code of Honor. There's a reason why the Tudors didn't have many allies. King Henry meditates on this, as he walks to his wardrobe to get dressed in his field garments.

("For the years that we ran the government, up until now, we had very few alliances… Weakness – the one thing we refused to ally ourselves with. The only way I'll turn from the Church is if I'm defeated by their strongest member. If _he_, the lowly fledgling, can defeat me…I'll gladly join his ranks. It's the only way I can honor the Tudor Family name.")

A few minutes later, after having carefully dressed in his finest field robes, the King stands before his bedroom mirror with a content smile… The last of the Tudor Family walks onto his bedroom balcony, and patiently awaits our arrival. When we do enter Aldington, we'll be faced with an opponent that's twice as powerful as Father Christian… As the strongest of our group, next to my fiancé, I'll have to step forward and challenge him.

Although I'm ignorant to the idea, my Great-grandfather's struggling with himself at Infinity HQ. Father Andrew, his active Methuselahs, Uncle Alexander, and Grandpa Christopher are confronting the mindless Dietrich in his time of spiritual suffering… Hopefully, in our absence, they'll be able to pacify Grandpa Frederic's uncontrollable behavior by following Father Andrew's ingenious methods… However, this confrontation's bound to be one that will leave _several_ of our comrades with near fatal wounds.

And also, the Count's currently on his way to Rutherford to retrieve his son – our favorite hyperactive Strigoi, Brother Jonathan Curtis. Because of this, an unexplained emptiness has cursed the empathic nightwalker with feelings of anguish and pain. As the Dark Lord and his Dietrich lover closes in, the cold feeling becomes more devastating… What could this strange sensation mean?

What will become of my Great-grandfather?

Will we be able to change the King's heart with an honorable match?

Will King Henry remain with the Church…or stand at the side of his love?

__The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…__

* * *

><p><strong><em><em>(Ending Theme 2 – "Colors" by Utada Hikaru)<em>_**

* * *

><p><strong><em><em>(Up Next: Chapter 20 – Brokenhearted)<em>_**


	21. Chapter 20: Brokenhearted

_**BLOOD/Night**_

* * *

><p>As our party closes distance with Aldington, another fond memory comes to mind… I remember the time Damien and I had our first date. It was about a month into our relationship, after we developed a lot of common ground. Andrew was off tending to other business ventures, while we created…something beautiful together.<p>

_*****Flashback to Nottingham, England 2005…*****_

It was a beautiful day, unlike any other… My Sweets wanted to travel the town together, and was behaving like a little child with a piece of candy in his hand. It was the cutest little sight – watching him drag me around, making me feel like a babysitter.

"Stuey, look at this!" he ran up to a cute little window display of…rodents in a pet shop. For some strange reason, Damien loves mice and other creatures of the sort. It creeps me out, but whatever makes him happy. "Oh, they're so cute… They look rather unusual; must be a new species."

"Those aren't mice, those are marsupials."

"_They're cute!" he snarled._

I threw up my hands in surrender, "Okay, they're cute. I get it."

"Stuey…" he cradled against my right side. And then…he looked up to me…with 'the look' – the dreaded puppy dog face that I could never resist. "…I want to go see the little cuties. Come with me?"

"Come with me?" I playfully mocked, speaking in a high-pitched voice.

"Stuey…?" he hopped like a spoiled child, giggling at my teasing behavior.

"Alright, alright. I'll go with you."

"Yay!" he cheered.

Hearing the joy in his voice was enough for me. Damien's happiness makes me feel whole to this day… When we arrived to the display of marsupials, Damien began hopping like a happy little toddler.

"_Hee-hee-hee! Ah-hee-hee-hee!"_

"Damien, you're quite the character", I giggled, amused by his energetic behavior.

"But, Stuey…they're so cute!"

"Yes, they are", I looked into the little display, and observed how…adorable the little critters were.

"They're called 'Sugar Gliders'", explained a male sales rep. We turned around to see a flamboyant male associate, who sported a boa and rather 'comfortable' clothing. He fetched one of the little pocket pets from the display, and held it in the palm of his left hand. "But, I call them 'Sugar Babies'. This one's named Athena."

"Oh, can I hold her?" cooed my bouncy lover.

"Sure, here you go", the sale rep handed the little critter to my lover. Just looking at how well Damien bonded with the little glider…touched me. The flamboyant rep smiled at my lover's giddy personality. "These little cuties are actually £1500. They're well worth the buy: easily trainable, friendly, and you can carry them almost anywhere. I have one at home right now."

Damien gave me "the look", and I closed my eyes… I didn't want to gaze into "the look", or I'd have a little marsupial flying on my shoulder every 2 seconds.

"Stuey, can I have one?" he asked, tilting his head with a cute smile.

"Mm-mm", I shook my head.

"But it's cute, Stuey!" he whined.

"Mm-mm."

"But, Stuey…!"

"Calm down, sir", the sales rep patted Damien on his shoulder, and gave me a sinister look. I swallowed my saliva in a hard ball. "Athena, smooch-smooch the big man."

"Smooch-smooch?" I confusedly reiterated, before the little rodent jumped on my shoulder and froze me where I stood… And, that was the moment that my 'fear of rats' came into play. It tickled, but I was still frozen solid, not daring to move a single muscle. I looked to the snickering twosome with an expression that screamed distress. "Get this thing off of me… Please? I hate rats."

"That, my friend, is not a rat", corrected the sale rep, as the Sugar Glider crawled onto the top of my head. The boys cooed at how the little rodent took to me, watching it sniff away at my hair. "Aww, she likes you, sir. I think she wants to go home with you."

"Stuey, she likes you", my lover second the notion.

"Mmmm…!" I whined, fighting 'the look' with all my might.

But, to no avail, I couldn't fight "the look"… I ended up buying Damien…a rat. The little…thing kept crawling around in its cage, making my skin crawl. I know, I know – a big guy like me being edgy around rodents isn't top-dollar masculinity wise. Oh well, anything for Damien's happiness…I guess.

"Athena, you're going to have a wonderful life with your new 'papas'."

"Eww! I'm no rodent's father, thank you very much", I gagged. The little critter placed its hands on its head, and covered its face… Its body began to wiggle. Huh? What odd behavior. "What the devil is that thing doing, preparing to take a dump?"

"You hurt its feelings, you meanie", Damien hissed.

"I still don't like rats."

"It's not a rat!" Damien turned his head up at me and walked off. "Hmph! Be that way… Come on, Athena – Daddy Stuey's being a scary little bum sickle."

"Are you seriously getting angry with me for a rat?"

"Nyih!" Damien stuck his tongue at me and walked off.

"Oh, boy…some first date", I tagged along, feeling it best to not leave his side in such a big city.

Despite the fact that he was angry with me, I enjoyed watching Damien toy around with his little…um…'Athena'. We returned to our car, drove to the local park, grabbed our blanket and picnic basket and enjoyed the outdoors…with our new pet…'Athena'. Lord, if you only knew how jittery I was, eating near a marsupial… I could barely take a bite of my sandwich.

"Mmmm…!" I whined with nervous energy.

"What is it, Stuey?"

"Mmmm…! Do we really have to let…_Athena_ eat with us?"

"I'm not leaving my 'baby' in the car, so there."

"But it's so…furry and small and… I just don't like rodents, that's all."

"Stuey, you really need to break out of that silly fear", he laughed, before the little critter looked up to me with its beady little black eyes. Damien fed his little pet small pieces of chopped carrots, and I noticed how…cute it looked, chewing away at its lunch. "Athena's a little cutie pie, just like you…Stuey. But, you're not little – you're big and solid-built, which is just as nice."

"Well…I guess she isn't all that bad. Now that I look at her…she seems like a nice pet for you."

"It's 'our' pet, silly."

"I'm not so sure about that…I mean, well…" I began tripping over my words, unsure of what I should say next. I'm not very fluent when it comes to…'Athenas'. All of a sudden, a stray cat began sneaking up on the cage. I picked up a rock from the grass, and tossed at the cat, chasing it away. "…Yeah, scat, you mangy cat! I paid money for the little critter, and I'm not letting you get your paws on it! Now, off with you!"

The cat hissed at us, and then ran away. What a barbaric little pussy! I can't stand cats as much as I can't stand rodents, but I'm not scared of them… I just don't like cats, period. They stink, they tear things up, and they leave fur everywhere… They're just disgusting, and I'm not letting a filthy little stray spoil a £1500 purchase.

Damien picked Athena's cage up and began baby-talking with her, "You see that, Teenie? Papa Stuey loves you, after all. Ooh! Want to give him a kiss?"

"Say what now…?" I jittered in a bolt of fear.

"Come on, Stuey, give her some sugar…please?" I froze up when he asked me that. But, oh well, I suffered the gesture… I closed my eyes, puckered my lips and allowed Damien to place the cage near my face. I felt Athena's nose tickle my cheek, and I giggled. Damien giggled with me, pleased by how I began getting along with our new little pet. "You see? She's really cute and fuzzy."

"Yes, she really is."

From that moment on, Athena became our first pet. We had her for a few months, before Damien gave Athena to my baby cousin, Jennifer. It was the best little birthday present she could ask for. We see Athena from time to time when passing through Hamilton City, which is five hours from here… As a matter of fact, it's the city directly after Rutherford. When we're done with all of this, perhaps we could pay my baby cousin a visit…and catch up with 'our' little Athena.

_*****…Back to the present*****_

So, that was my first date in a nutshell… I bought Damien a Sugar Glider that he fell in love with, and I somehow managed to conquer my fear of rodents. Well, I wouldn't say all of them – I still have a fear of rats, mice, and guinea pigs. God help me if it were a sewer rat – I'd soil myself if that were the case.

Damien's sleeping, resting his head on my lap. I haven't seen him this tuckered out since…Brownstone. You know what, I'm starting to realize how tired everyone's starting to become. Our trip has been quite the long one, and I'm beginning to feel the strain myself. Perhaps a little nap will do me some good.

_I close my eyes…and rest for the next hour or so._

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Opening Theme 2 – Chikyuugi (Globe) by Matsuzawa Yumi)<em>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 20 – <strong>**Brokenhearted**_

* * *

><p><em>An hour later…I awaken.<em>

Looking out the window, I notice that we've finally arrived to Aldington's city limits. At first sight, the legendary city appears as any other metropolis: economically booming, outlined with the latest in progressive technology and natural resources. Amongst all things, Aldington is known as "the Scholastic Capital" of Europe; a moniker that residents carry with pride. Some of the world's greatest minds spawn from Aldington, and I'm proud to say that one of my family members lives in these parts… I wonder what he's doing these days.

"What's got _you_ beaming like a flashlight, pup?" questions my ever-so nosey ginger bud.

"_I just remembered something: I've family in these parts. I almost forgot about that."_

"Doesn't Papa James have a vacation home here?" Damien asks, cradling against me in his drowsiness.

"Yes, but he's not visiting this year; although, I've a cousin who lives in the Judicial District… Geoffrey Saunders – I'm sure you should remember him from the family reunion."

"Are you talking about the 'Cousin Geoffrey' who _spanked_ me on the bum in his drunkenness?"

"Yes, that one", I giggle, remembering my cousin's outrageous personality. "I think he's a charge nurse in the local hospital. Perhaps we could drop by there, pay him a visit and whatnot."

"Well…I guess it wouldn't hurt. Just watch that crazy cousin of yours – he has a habit of 'patting things' he has no business touching in the first place."

"Henry's not the type to give his targets time to breathe", Yuvraj reminds, examining Aldington's beautiful scenery. His cautionary verse catches our attention, and modifies our easygoing behavior. "It's best that you boys stay close to us. The King will surely confront us on sight, so it'd work to our advantage if we stick together. Remember – Henry's an SSS Class warrior, so he's no one to be trifled with."

"Listen to him, fellas", Stephen seconds. "You'll do yourselves some good by not getting others involved, as well. If he gets the chance, Henry will take hostages. Also, Aldington is a Gideonite capital; no one here is your friend, so that means – Stu – that your cousin _could be_ working for the enemy."

"If you're offended by our concerns, we apologize, Stuart", Yuvraj extends.

What's with the apologies? …Well, with him being a formal man and all, Raj is prone to behaving with impenetrable serenity. It's rare that you see a man of his stature lose his patience. Oh well, honor amongst friends I presume… I better return his actions with a little of the old "Bennett charm".

"Don't be so melodramatic, Raj. I'm not the easiest person to offend. I'm well aware of the concerns of my friends… I value the companions I've made just as much as I do my lover."

"Just make sure not to hop in the bed with one of us, if that's the case", Stephen's sarcasm tickles everyone in the car. "I mean it – if I see your ugly arse in my cot, I'll bitch-whip ya to Hell and back."

"Sorry, but I'd rather much have my 'chocolate milk', not _a creamy_ 2% _boob_ like you."

"Don't make me come back there and slap the _titty milk_ out your mouth, pup!"

"Puppies bite _back_, you old cum fart!"

"Boys, boys – enough already!" Damien giggles, silencing our little spat.

"Hmph! I've no time for him, anyway", my lover cradles against me, still feeling a bit drowsy. I plant a kiss on his head. "Still tired, love? Want to rest some more?"

"No, I'm just a little car weary, that's all."

"You know you have Daddy's shoulder whenever you're ready."

"I'll remember that", I plant another kiss on his head, making him giggle.

"_Aww_, sugar cereal – now cut it out!" jokingly teases our rude driver. Raj giggles under his breath, as I stick my tongue at the crabby old goat. "You can stick your tongue at me all you want, pup! Turn down the 'sweetness level' for once, will ya?"

"Are we being jealous now, Steve?" I ask in laughter.

"No, but my stomach's being sick looking at all of that. Muah this, muah that – it's enough to make an old man catch sugar diabetes."

"Oh, spare me the green-eyed talk", we laugh for a little, behaving as we always do.

Stephen and I have been friends for quite some time… I'm beginning to understand why Damien takes to him so much. He's a very caring individual, though he has a rough way of showing it. That's how most gingers are, at least to me: rough around the edges, but they're the most lovable people around.

Stephen's stomach begins to rumble, "Well, that's it – the old tummy's running on E."

"I could go for a nice meal myself", agrees the Time Bender.

"I wonder if there's a diner around here."

"Why not try the Denny's downtown?" I suggest.

"That'll do. Mind giving Kate a ring for me?"

"No problem, chum", I retrieve my mobile from my side pocket, dial Natalie's number and listen to her ringback tone. She appears to like Metallica a lot – I can hear 'My Apocalypse' playing, which is actually her favorite song… The Head Mother answers. "Hey, Nattie… No, we're all right, we were just wondering if you wanted to go to Denny's with us… Okay, I'll tell them… Alright, see you there."

"Is she up for it?" Damien asks, as I end the call. I nod with a smile, making my boy excite. "Oh, goodie, I get to try out the new breakfast platter!"

"That's very cute of you, dear", I giggle, humored by my lover's perky attitude.

"What? I love pancakes!"

"And I love _your pancakes_, but you don't see me doing a praise dance about it."

"Oh, hush up!" Damien smacks me on my shoulder, as we all burst into laughter. As the humorous mood dies down, my fiancé cradles against me. I'm really getting used to his tenderness, almost to the point of being spoiled… The day's not complete, without a little loving from my boy. We look into each other's eyes, gazing lovingly at one another. "I love you so much, Stuart."

"Oh, Damien…" I stare with love.

"Stuart…"

"Damien…"

"Stuart…"

"Damien…"

"Stuart…"

"_UGH, God, take me now…!" Stephen sarcastically complains._

"Oh dear…" Raj bursts into laughter.

"Stephen, one more outburst and I'll bitch-slap _you_ with one of your brambles", I teasingly threaten.

"I'd like to see you try, ya camel-faced tit-munch!" he playfully snaps.

"How dare you, you hairy-lipped snatch gnome!"

"I ain't daring a thing, ya jimmy-bred cum splotch!"

"HA! I'm done…" Damien bursts into laughter with Father Yuvraj. "…That…is…enough! I swear, you two act like a pair of stooges when you're together."

"We know", Stephen and I admit, joining in on the laughter.

The rest of our drive was very peaceful, full of laughter and joy. It's a shame that tender times like these are momentary… It's rather saddening to know that. Laughing and enjoying the company of our friends – that is what makes this adventure _fun_ for Damien and me. However, at the end of our fun…lies the grim truth.

_The King's lurking around in Aldington, waiting for our arrival._

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back at Infinity HQ, the rampage continues… Father Andrew, Uncle Alexander, Grandpa Christopher, and the active Methuselahs stand before the awakened Dietrich. Grandpa Frederic has lost all sense of reasoning, and approaches them with bloodthirsty jaws. His breathing is beastly, his eyes are darker than the night sky, and his frame is animated by a monstrous aura of darkness. In this state, the legendary protagonist can only see blood… <em>He can only see his darkest of desires<em>.

"Feed me…" he demands, sending his targets into a state of alertness. "…Feed me, before I take what I want. The darkness…it wants blood, and so do I!"

"Should we exterminate him, Father Andrew?" Brother Randal asks of his creator.

"No, don't do that. He's brainwashed, not homicidal. If you kill him, it will give the Count another tally on his 'victory chart'. The best thing for us to do is restrain him and synchronize the energies inside of his body. His existence will do the rest of the work."

"No more talking…!" Grandpa Frederic manipulates the air pressure surrounding him, creating a violent sonic boom at his feet! The sonic boom propels him forward, as he rears his right hand behind him. His fingernails mutate and become grisly claws. "YOUR LIFEBLOOD IS MINE…!"

"Everyone, scatter – I'll create a defense!" Grandpa Christopher commands, causing his comrades and superiors to retreat. The earth begins to quake, reacting to his power increase. Grandpa Christopher's eyes glow with a silver light, as my Great-grandfather closes distance with his only son. _"…Forgive me, dad!** Heartbreak!**"_

My Grandfather's body shines with a blinding silver light, robbing the rampaging Dietrich of his vision… The ageless nightwalker covers his eyes, reacting to the darkness's suffering. The darkness fears the light; therefore, my Great-grandfather feels the light's stinging pain.

"AAH…!" Grandpa Frederic manipulates the airstream trailing from his body, causing him to come to a halt. The Dietrich suffers the light's burning curse. "AAH…! My eyes…I CAN'T SEE…!"

My Grandfather fiercely emerges from his blinding field of light with a mass of silver flames shining from his speeding frame! Grandpa Frederic feels the sting of son's strong right fist blasting into his stomach! He loses breath, reacting to his abdominals' minor injury. The empowered half-breed concentrates his existence, spreading a silver territory from his airborne frame… Grandpa Frederic suddenly feels something happening to his body.

"Why…can't I move?" asks the confused Dietrich of his assailant.

"Simple…you've been ensnared by 'the ultimate seal'."

_"Ultimate…seal?"_

"Yep, you heard right", Grandpa Christopher's shining eyes release a pulse of silver light. "Sorry about this, old man. _But, a son's gotta do what a son's gotta do!_"

My Great-grandfather is encased in a shell of Sticky Finger's metallic hands! Grandpa Christopher hovers away from the sealed Dietrich, as his comrades and superiors watch what appears to be the end of the battle.

"Well…that was quick", snickers Brother Heath.

"It's not over", corrects the empowered radical.

"You mean…?"

"Yeah, that won't hold him", recognizes Brother John, before giving two of his subordinate Methuselahs specific orders. "Kev, Jay, prepare to slow him down on my command."

"Roger!" preps his fellow Lost Boyz.

Brother Randal preps his Highwaymen for a combination attack, "Ronnie, Red, PJ, assist your brothers. I'm going to amplify your attacks using my _Find Your Wings_ technique. If we can slow him down well enough, Father Andrew, Lord Alexander, we'll leave the rest to you."

"Sounds like a plan", accepts the Crusnik Lord, as a shield of Crimson Matter forms on his right forearm.

"Get…this…OFF OF ME…!" roars the hostile Dietrich, as Grandpa Christopher's _Heartbreak seal_ begins to crack. With one monstrous jerking of his arms, the top of the shell shatters into metallic rubble! "RAAA…! HOW DARE YOU LOCK ME IN THAT PIECE OF SCRAP METAL! I'LL KILL YOU!"

"Do it, now!" commands Grandpa Christopher of the Methuselahs.

Brother John and Brother Randal rally their subordinates for battle, "Everyone, let's go!"

"Okay!" Sister Sarona summons her mounted ghostly turret upon her right forearm, aims and fires a colossal wave of electrical currents! She rallies her fellow marksmen. "Red, Kev, attack now!"

"I'm on it!" Brother Heath materializes his handguns into a ghostly shotgun.

"Time for some firepower!" Brother Kevin materializes his automatic rifle into a ghostly breech-loading swivel cannon held in his arms. The marksmen aim their special firearms at their target. "Ready…!"

"Fire!" Brother Heath fires a colossal wave of crimson-colored energy from his shotgun, and Brother Kevin does the same with his swivel cannon.

The trio of energy waves crash into Grandpa Frederic's stationary body, surrounding him with a shell of pure energy! The hostile Dietrich begins clawing away at his spiritual prison, attempting to break free!

"What the devil is this…? GET IT OFF OF ME…!"

"Paul, Jayson, immobilize him!" commands Father Andrew.

"Will do", smiles the Swordsman, before he draws his blade.

A storm of rose petals emerges from Brother Paul's saya, just as Brother Jayson blasts a violent blizzard from his right fist! The two powers crash into Grandpa Frederic's energy cage, causing him to lose mobility!

"He's handicapped", confirms Brother Paul.

"Jojo, Randy, finish him off!" preps Brother Jayson.

"On three…" Brother John energizes his right fist with silver light. Brother Randy summons a funnel of wind around his body, awaiting his fellow leader's command. The two cyborgs aim their right fists at the immobilized Dietrich. "…One…two…three!"

The Leader Methuselahs release their energies upon their target, creating a shining funnel of silver light! The combined powers crash into Grandpa Frederic's energy cage, causing an atomic reaction – the cage solidifies into a thick shell of Crimson Matter!

Brother Randal preps his superiors for action, "Alright, he's good to go! Take him out, guys!"

"Andrew, synchronize your frequencies with my shield!" commands the Crusnik Lord, as he holds his shield of Crimson Matter in front of his body.

"Okay", the Cyber-technologist places his right hand behind his comrade's shield, filling it with a strong pulse of sound waves. As their energies combine, Father Andrew makes an emotional plea to his brainwashed comrade. "Come back to us, Fred!"

Uncle Alexander's shield of Crimson Matter emits a ruby-colored wave of supersonic energy! The disruption wave travels the air, and crashes into Grandpa Frederic's immobilized body! The impact fills the Dietrich with a potent surge of Crimson Matter currents… The currents cleanse my ancestor's mental state, and frees him of the King's mortal curse. The nightmarish aura fades…and my Great-grandfather is finally freed of the King's blinding curse of darkness.

"Alright, that should be enough", recognizes Father Andrew. The onslaught of power ceases, and the cage of Crimson Matter surrounding Grandpa Frederic dissolves… Drew and Uncle Al dash towards their weakened friend, successfully catching his collapsing body. The Crusnik Lord holds his old friend in his arms, as Father Andrew looks to his Methuselahs with a proud smile. "You've done a good job, kiddos. Head to my lab for reprogramming. That was a _lot_ of power output; the affects could toy with your psyche."

"Will do, Boss Man", nods Brother John.

Leonard and Niccolò make a late arrival, descending from the sky. The Former Clergymen come to a soft landing upon a bed of airstreams. Despite their late arrival, their comrades are pleased to see them.

Grandpa Christopher decides to make a smart remark, "Well, you two sure took your merry little time."

"Please, forgive our tardiness", humbly apologizes the Former Cardinal.

"We were tending to the last of the residents", continues the Former Pope, as the former ecclesiasts approach their fellow superiors. "This is _far_ from over, I'm afraid. Did you not sense it?"

"Sense what?" questions Sister Sarona.

"The Count…he's almost here", Leonard's cautionary verse rallies his comrades. "It'd be best for us to secure the front for you. We will act as a shield for you. It's best for us to confront the Count first, due to our past relationships with the Church."

"You're going to face him alone…?" exclaims the Crusnik Lord. "Are you bloody serious…? You may be vampires, but you're _not_ supermen!"

"Have faith in us, old timer. We're _very_ capable of handling Valdo's power."

"You need not worry about us", Niccolò seconds.

"You won't face him without me!" the sound of a woman's voice calls from the rooftops of Infinity HQ. Everyone looks in the direction of the voice, and is amazed by who they see gazing upon them… It's Mother Wendy, who arrived to check on the condition of her recuperating Combat Specialist. "I hope you don't mind me dropping in unannounced!"

"Better late with style than nothing, right?" giggles my Grandfather, tipping his hat to his female comrade.

"Benvenuto (Welcome), Wendelina!" excites the Former Cardinal, as his elder sister leaps from the rooftop with the greatest of ease. The beautiful Abbess soars through the air, before landing softly upon a bed of airstreams in the midst of her friends. Niccolò embraces his elder sister, delighted to have her in his presence. "My dearest sorella maggiore (elder sister), I'm so happy to see you. What brings you here?"

"My soldiers, and Il Conte's (the Count's) presence", the Mother Superior looks to her comrades and subordinates with concerned eyes. She speaks from her heart. "I know you may disagree, but this is personal. Valdo has my husband, and I _refuse_ to stand back when he chooses to behave with such boldness."

"Like we have a choice in the matter", jests the Cyber-technologist, bringing a smile to the Abbess's lovely face. "You're always welcome to take arms with us, Wendy. Be sure remember that, lassie."

"Registered and saved", bows the Abbess, before she grasps a handful of her holy garments. Mother Wendy tosses her gown off of her body with a single swing, revealing a foxy skin-tight leather latex suit, with matching boots, gloves and belt. The male Methuselahs turn beet-red, marveling at how…_stunningly_ _attractive_ the Abbess looks underneath her holy robes. She strikes a pose to tease them, speaking with feminine seductive flair. "_Alright everyone, now I'm ready for…battle_."

The male Methuselahs faint, unable to take the Abbess's nonviolent onslaught of sex appeal. Sister Sarona stands alone, shaking her head at how juvenile her comrades are acting. The superior radicals are humored by the cyborgs' comical behavior. Mother Wendy giggles a little, before turning to her fellow superiors with a warm smile.

"Well, that's enough fun for today. I'm staying out here with Niccolò and Leonard. Andrew, Alexander, please take care of Frederic. I don't want to be the one to see Stuart's tears, especially over something like this."

"Don't you worry your little head, missy", assures my Grandfather. "Dad's health is top-priority right now. We'll leave the rough stuff to you three. Just make sure to get the job done right."

"We'll be counting on you, good luck", wishes the Crusnik Lord.

"Alright Methuselahs, fallout!" commands the Cyber-technologist. He suddenly notices that his male Methuselahs have _already_ 'fallen out'. He changes his delivery to better suit the situation. "Um, _ahem_, I mean 'get up and head to rehabilitation'. Hurry along now, kiddos."

"Okay…" whines the sexually overwhelmed male Methuselahs. The boys rise to their feet and begin following their embarrassed female comrade to Father Andrew's laboratory. In unison, the male Methuselahs begin hallucinating that they're following Mother Wendy. "…Where are you going, my love? Wait for baby!"

"Geez, what a bunch of losers", grunts the embarrassed Sister Sarona, being followed by her comical assortment of male comrades.

_"We love you, Mother Wendy!"_

"I ain't Mother Wendy, you oversexed jackasses!" snaps Sister Sarona.

_"Okay, Mother Wendy!"_

"UGH! Shoot me!" whines the mortified Huntress.

The superiors are humored by their subordinates' odd behavior. Grandpa Christopher, Father Andrew and Uncle Alexander join them, parting ways with the volunteering defenders.

"Good luck, guys", wishes the Cyber-technologist in his departure.

"Grazie, amici miei (Thank you, my friends)", bows the Former Cardinal. Niccolò stands up straight, turns on his heel and looks towards the entrance. His elder sister and fellow former Clergyman stand at his side. "I can sense Il Conte… He's currently _two_ _hours_ from here. When he arrives, Valdo will most likely become hostile."

"I'm used to his excitable temperaments", Leonard giggles, having knowledge of his former lover's confrontational nature. "Don't worry. I know how to talk to him, so an actual fight is reduced to a '50:50 ratio'. Hopefully, luck will land us on the _nonviolent_ side of our invisible coin."

"We should rest ourselves until he arrives", Mother Wendy walks to a nearby courtyard bench and has a seat. Her younger brother and new comrade joins her. The beautiful Abbess asks a personal question. "Boys, do you think we have the power to stand up to Valdo…_and_ my husband?"

"Only time will tell, Wendelina", Niccolò answers with a confident smile.

"I second that notion", Leonard agrees. The soft-spoken former ecclesiast looks to his new female comrade with a loving smile. "We'll handle Valdo, while you take care of Thaddeus. I think it's best that way."

"Grazie, Leonardo (Thank you, Leonard)", smiles the beautiful Abbess.

The wait begins… In two hours, the Count will arrive at Infinity HQ's entrance. With T.A.T.U. currently being at Level 6: Black security, it may be a challenge for him to breech the association's defense. However, this confrontation is unavoidable in _more_ ways than one.

Mother Wendy must face her husband in order to make a connection with him… Fate will bring them together again, just like the Mother Superior predicted days ago. Sadly…their reunion won't be as _tender_ as Mother Wendy envisioned.

* * *

><p>Breakfast was delicious! Denny's was never my favorite eatery, but you can't have too many preferences on an empty stomach… Oh dear! I think I better excuse myself to the nearest restroom – nature's calling.<p>

"Excuse me, I'll be back", I announce before departing from my conversing set of friends.

"Take your time, love", pardons my fiancé. Non-name brand flour gives me a sour case of the runs; sad, but true. Damien already knows why I'm leaving the table, and giggles about it. "I told him not to order those waffles, but he wouldn't listen to me. Poor thing."

"Leave it to the bum-suck to put himself in that kind of situation", Stephen sarcastically comments.

"Stevie, no bad-mouthing your friends in their absence."

"Oh, so you're gonna make me stop then, little fella?" the flame-haired nightwalker flashes his fangs at my fiancé. Damien turns his head away from his elder, making Stephen laugh. "Ha! I thought so, sugar face. Don't go fooling around with old men like me. My _bite_ is ten-times worse than my bark."

"Oh, really?" Damien smiles, before snatching Stephen's ear with his left index and thumb finger.

"YOWCH! Enough with the ear-pulling, Day-Day!" squirms the mischievous ginger, making everyone laugh. Damien releases his brother-figure's ear, planting a kiss on Stephen's left cheek. Stephen smiles proudly. "Well, I guess a little kiss makes up for the damage done."

"What an easy old fool", snickers Father Yuvraj under his breath.

_"I heard that, ya senile old crap trap!" snaps the excitable Irishman._

"That's nice."

_"Don't try to blow it off!"_

"I'm not arguing with you, Paddington."

_"Geez, what a little sissy!"_

"I'd rather be a 'sissy' than _a scene queen_", Yuvraj cleverly retorts.

_"What did you call me!"_

"A scene queen. What, is your hearing going bad because of a little pinch?"

_"Why you fat-nosed toilet gnome! I ought to break your face in for that!"_

"I dare you!" the Punjabi-Canadian grabs a hold of his dining knife.

"Boys, don't even start that!" fiercely commands the stern Head Mother, scaring the arguing twosome.

"Yes, ma'am", submits the argumentative radicals.

"Nothing like a little comedy relief after a nice, warm meal", sarcastically smiles the Optic Master, receiving ugly, mocking faces from his argumentative superiors. Father John snickers at their childish behavior. "What's with the weird faces? You look like angry chimpanzees trying to catch a cab."

"I was going to say _baboons_, but chimps will do", seconds Brother Theodore.

"At least we don't look like _a naked mole_ rat and _an oversexed horse_", Stephen's blunt remark makes the two younger radicals think… TJ looks at his reflection on his emptied glass of milk, and visualizes a naked mole rat's face. JoMo does the same and sees the face of a brown horse. Their fierce expressions speak a thousand unsaid words – they've been offended. The haughty Irishman laughs at their reactions. "Ha! Serves you right, trying to run one over on good old Paddy. You younger lads need to learn your place."

"Spoken like a true old fart", bucks Father John.

"Oh, still got a set, do ya?" Stephen returns, fiercely staring his junior in the eyes. "That's some tough talk coming from a fruitcake like you. Why don't you sit down and polish your nails like a good little girl?"

_"Don't get jealous because I can get more girls than you."_

"Yeah, and if you do, Mel will _bitch-whip_ ya back to California. It's a damn shame that your girlfriend's wearing the pants in the relationship, ya wet-eared pansy!"

"Yeah, well at least my sack doesn't _burn_ my girl's oven, _firecrotch_!"

"That's enough!" sternly scolds the Head Mother, instantly pacifying the immature spat. The two opposing sides have a seat, and begin shooting each other grim stares. I return from the restroom, having relieved myself of some…_rather unwanted passage_. Natalie greets me, as I have a seat next to my boy. "Welcome back, Stu. Did you get it all out, soldier?"

"Remind me _not_ to eat waffles from this place in the future. It's rather embarrassing, having to excuse yourself for something so…_disgusting_."

"There's nothing wrong with bodily functions, Stu."

"Yeah, don't be so dramatic, love", Damien gives me a kiss on my cheek. "You're still my big man, _regardless_ of what a waffle does to your rear end."

I blush in a mode of embarrassment, "Thanks, Sweets…I think."

"Well, we better pay the bill and get going", announces the Head Mother, as she stands from the table. Natalie begins walking towards the cash register. "I want you boys to go relax in the car. I'll go pay for our meals."

"Will do, Kate", the rest of us stand from out chairs. All of a sudden, our existences sense an immeasurable amount of energy from the area surrounding us. Natalie stops in her tracks and turns around, realizing what this means. Stephen looks to his old friend with serious eyes. "He's somewhere around, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. I'm going to hurry and take care of the bill. We don't want anyone getting involved in this."

"Good form, Nattie", I nod, sending her on her way. I look to the rest of my party, knowing well that this is the moment of truth. Sucking up my pride, I make a confession. "I can't lie to you…I'm a bit nervous about this."

"Don't worry, Stuey", pets my loving fiancé. I look down to him, as he cradles against my left arm. Damien looks into my eyes with a smile. "I'm pretty sure things will turn out just fine. We just need to have a little faith."

"If only things were that simple", Brother Theodore's contrary verse grasps Damien's attention. "You see, Henry is a very clever and sneaky fighter. He's also _very_ dirty – he'll take his enemies down by victimizing others; that's just how he operates. If given the chance, he'll become ruthless and start playing mind games with us. It's best not to underestimate a man of his power class, DC. You'll end up dead with that kind of attitude…and I think I speak for everybody, when I say that I'd rather see you _living_ than dead."

"He's right, Damien", I hold onto my boy, with my right arm. He looks up into my eyes, and notices that I'm smiling at him. "Stay focused, love. The battle ahead is sure to be a tough one."

He smiles at me and nods, "Okay, Stuey! I'll do my best!"

Natalie arrives from the cash register and rallies us for departure, "Alright, boys, let's go. And make sure to stay together at all times."

"Yes, ma'am", understands the rest of our party.

* * *

><p>The people of Aldington: <em>an unconcerned civilization that behaves quite rudely…<em> We're _definitely_ in the middle of a Gideonite capital. The looks the people are giving us… _It's enough to freeze a person's soul to death_.

"Do they…know who we are?" I ask of my senior companions.

"Yes, they do", confirms the Head Mother. "They can tell from the emblems our clothes that we're Infinity radicals. Plus, _every_ Gideonite knows my face, so that just makes things even worse for us."

_"Do you think they'll attack us?"_

"We're vampires, fella", Stephen answers. "If they attack us, all we have to do is _scare_ them away. Humans tend to become antsy around more powerful figures."

"Just remain natural", advises Father John.

_"As if I we have a choice."_

"You took the words right out of my mouth", seconds Father Yuvraj.

Watching from a bird's eye view atop of the city's highest building, the King follows our every move using his existence… He notices that we're walking along Jackson Street, which is the heart of the city's Commercial District. King Henry folds his arms, amused by how his target fails to blend in with the crowd.

"Little black birds, fly away into the evening sky", recites the King, referring to our distinguishable apparel. "Carry the souls of the deceased to their final resting place, little black birds. Deliver to the creator his fallen children… Stuart Bennett, the time has come. I _pray_ that you're the one who will liberate me from a life of interminable treachery. That is, _if_ you can withstand my Dark Side Moon's uncanny attack."

A cold chill freezes me in place… My party stops and looks back at me. Their faces are solemn, but curious.

"Stuart, are you all right?" asks Father John.

_"A chill just ran up my spine."_

"Yeah, me too", seconds Brother Theodore.

"Henry must be _really_ close by, if that's the case", Natalie estimates. "He has a habit of stalking his prey, before moving in for the kill."

"Better get rid of those jitters, Stu", Stephen suggests, grasping my attention. "Dark Side Moon has an innate ability to _feed_ off a person's fear. If you're scared of him, he'll overpower you. Remember that, fella."

_"I'll keep that in mind. Many thanks to you, Steve."_

"Don't thank me yet, Stu", a poison ivy leaf trails through the wind from the east. Stephen looks in the direction the leaf traveled from, and peers up at the highest building in the area. Everyone looks in the same direction, and perceives a dark figure spying on us from the building's rooftop. "That's Henry. The old fool's waiting for us to get somewhere quiet, then he'll confront us."

_"How long has he been up there?"_

"Probably for an hour or two."

_Damien clings to my waist in a jittery mood, "He's…creepy-looking."_

"Don't worry, Damien", eases Father Yuvraj. "That's just his way of playing mind games with his victims. Unlike most Clergymen, he has a little class; he doesn't like to make a scene. Still, for him to present himself with such _mysteriousness_…"

"…He has an ulterior motive in mind", Natalie finishes, showing knowledge of her ex-husband's personality. She ignores Henry's distant obscure image and continues forward. We tail her, listening to the Head Mother's serious verse. "We haven't the time to deal with his voyeuristic games. We're scheduled to meet with Father Luis and the Rolling Stones at the Franklin Resort in 30 minutes, so let's get a move on."

_"They're here? Since when?"_

"They phoned me about an hour ago, before we entered the Denny's parking lot. Luis heard rumors of a violent nightwalker stalking the streets of Aldington. The Rolling Stones volunteered to help with the criminal's detainment. From what I've read in his memo, our target is known as _'The Moonwalker'_, and attacks young victims in the night. He wears a silver trench coat and hat – those are his two most distinguishable features."

_"A mission and a stalker? Sounds like quite the eventful day."_

"AAH!" screams a young lady in the crowd. We're stopped in place, alerted by her shriek. From what we're witnessing, a thief has just stolen her purse. "Someone, help! That man stole my purse!"

_"Why isn't anyone helping that woman?"_

"That's how Aldington is: no one gives a damn", answers the Optic Master.

_"How rude of them, neglecting a lady in distress. Excuse me for a second."_

I pursue the petty thief, utilizing my innate wind manipulation to give me a strong endurance boost. My party watches, as I hastily chase after the fleeing crook, aiming to retrieve the young lady's purse. The people of Aldington _marvel_ at my daring display, as I bound forward like a valiant steed.

"You'll go no further!" I roar, before tackling the petty thief to the ground. Spectators are marveled by my heroic actions, having never seen such an _inhuman_ display of endurance. I snatch the young lady's purse from the thief's hands, stand up and send him on his way with a warning. "Get moving. Don't let me catch you stealing from anyone else, or I'll send you _flying to the moon_. Understood?"

"Y-y-y-yes, sir!" the cowardly bandit flees from the scene, intimidated by threatening verse.

Spectators applaud my performance, as the young lady approaches me to retrieve her belongings. She greets me with a delicate and graceful first impression.

"Thank you, sir", she shakes my hand.

"Scum leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I believe this belongs to you."

I hand the young lady her purse. The beautiful townswoman gratefully receives her belongings.

"I'm sorry to trouble you, Mr.–", she fails at guessing my name. "Oh, forgive me. I didn't get your name."

_"Bennett…Stuart Bennett. And you are?"_

"Whitney Houston – from Manson."

"Manson, you say?"

"It's a little town west of here", she giggles, realizing that I'm new to the area.

"Well, that goes to show how much I know about my home country. Right?"

"We're not entitled to know everything", she smiles, amused by my personality. And, just like any younger woman, she behaves as such. "Are you seeing anybody right now?"

"I'm engaged, actually."

_"Really? That's wonderful, congratulations!"_

"Thank you, miss", I smile, delighted by her kind nature.

"Where's the future missus?"

"Standing over there with the rest of my friends", I look to my party, and Ms. Houston sees…well…the only girl of my group: Natalie. To test her sense of liberality, I summon my party. "Everyone, come over here for a spell! I'd like you to meet our new friend!"

My party approaches, bringing a smile to the young lady's beautiful face. She appears to be pleased to see them, but her attention is mainly focused on Natalie, whom she believes to be "my future bride".

My party arrives, as I introduce our newest acquaintance.

"Everyone, this is Whitney Houston – from Manson."

"Hello there", she waves.

"You look rather young, lassie", snickers the coquettish Irish nightwalker. "How many years are you?"

_"I'm 16, as of yesterday."_

"Well, we wish you a Happy 'Late' Birthday", extends my loving fiancé, before clinging to my left arm.

_I hold my fiancé in my arms… Whitney gets the idea and her eyes widen._

"Mr. Bennett, is this your–?" she begins with shocked expression.

"Ms. Houston, this is Damien Crosse – my fiancé and lover", I announce, bringing a smile to my acquaintance's lovely profile. Damien shakes her hand. I introduce the rest of our party, pointing them out with a proud left hand. "_And_ these are our band of associates: Natalie Neidhart, John Hennigan, Yuvraj Dhesi, Theodore Wilson, and Stephen Farrelly."

"A pleasure, miss", bows the formal Punjabi-Canadian.

"Same here", seconds Brother Theodore.

"Ditto", thirds Father John. "What brings you to Aldington?"

"I'm meeting up with an Internet buddy", she smiles, before recognizing who we are. Her eyes widen, as her sense of recollection surfaces. "Wait a second…I know who you guys are: Wade Barrett and Mr. Cross, Natalya, Tyson Kidd, Sheamus, Jinder Mahal, and John Morrison! Whoa, talk about a streak of weird luck!"

"Are you a fan?" asks the Time Bender.

"I've been keeping up with the WWE for five years. My little brother and I watch RAW, Smackdown, NXT, and _every_ Pay-Per-View together. I have him to thank for giving me something else to watch _besides_ Pretty Little Liars, which just so happens to be my _favorite_ show."

"Mine too", confesses Father John.

_"Really now? Don't you just hate how they keep teasing A's identity?"_

"I know, 'A' needs to be unmasked already", they share a little laughter, and all the men in the party stare the Optic Master down; all except for Damien, of course. Father John looks at us with confused eyes. "What? I like the show, it's good. You should watch it sometime."

"We'll pass, thank you", we decline, behaving as most men would.

"Ms. Houston, if you don't mind me asking…" begins the Head Mother.

"Yes, ma'am?"

_"…Do you know how to get to the Franklin Resort?"_

She points to the north, "Down that way, four blocks, can't miss it."

"We have some important business to tend to. If you're available later, perhaps we could hang out. You seem like a really sweet young lady. Here's an idea: why not bring your little brother with you?"

"Oh my god, he would _love_ that!" she excites, fetching her cellphone from her purse. She searches her phone and accesses her mobile's 'New Contacts' tab. "Mr. Bennett, do you mind if we exchange phone numbers? I want to be able to keep up with you guys."

_"Sure thing, dear. My number is: 074-0651-9972."_

She fills in the numbers and saves it, "I'll be sure to call when we're on our way."

_"It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Houston."_

"Call me 'Whit', my nickname", she waves to us, hurrying to meet up with her Internet buddy. "Later! Hope you enjoy the Franklin Resort!"

"Take care, Whit!" I wish to our departing acquaintance. I notice that my seniors are smiling at me. Ignorant to the nature of their behavior, I do the only logical thing – I ask questions. "What's with the smiling faces? You look like a collection of life-sized China dolls."

"Always the charmer, aren't ya?" Stephen teasingly asks.

_"Um, you've no room to talk, Mr. 'How Many Years Are You?'."_

"What? I was being neighborly."

"Yeah, right, whatever", my smart remark makes everyone in our party laugh at him.

_"Oh, you can all kiss my arse! I like kids, so stop condemning me."_

"Then why were you _eying_ her like an old pervert?" I ask, picking at his naturally flirtatious nature.

"Well, to be honest…I saw the lassie in a dream last night", Stephen becomes serious, which is rather rare for him. Our hilarity ceases, as he covertly shows us the surfaced brambles on his right hand. "I didn't want to say anything, but Green Day _showed_ me Ms. Houston's fate. It's not a pretty picture, either."

_"Is it something we can prevent?"_

"I don't know, Stu. However, that poor little lady is The Moonwalker's next target. She says she's going to meet up with an Internet buddy, but I think this 'buddy' may be a _killer_ in disguise."

"But, we have to rendezvous with Lu and the Stones at the Franklin Resort", points the Youth Minister. "We're already being followed by the King, so looking out for Ms. Houston… That'll break up the party."

_"We don't have any other choice. We have to split up."_

"I second that, Stu", agrees the Head Mother. She looks to her subordinates with commanding eyes. "Ok. Theodore, Yuvraj, John, come with me. Damien, Stuart, Paddington, tend to Ms. Houston. Preserving the lives of innocents is top-priority to we Infinity radicals."

"Aye, good looking out, Kate", agrees the Earth Master, retreating his brambles into his existence.

"Stuart, I designate you as the leader of your team", commissions the Head Mother. "In this situation, it's best to have you as the head of your party. Paddington, don't be a sour puss and listen to Stuart. Understood?"

_"No problems here, Kate."_

"I'll do my best, Nattie", I promise with a smile.

"Also, be watchful of Henry. His existence isn't as strong as it was a few moments ago, which means that he's currently _on the move_. Try to avoid him at all costs."

"Roger!" Damien salutes like a little soldier, making everyone smile.

"Take care guys – for Infinity", Natalie wishes.

_"For Infinity", we return._

We part ways – Natalie's group heads for the Franklin Resort to meet with Luis and the Rolling Stones, while my group tails Whitney. I hate to do this, but Stephen's _always_ right about things like this. Green Day must have _empathic_ _features_ to have the ability to make predictions… Regardless of whatever the outcome will be, we'll do our very _best_ to protect Whitney from this notorious nightwalker.

_"They really think they can stop me?" questions a mysterious figure, obscured by the darkness of the alleyway next to our former meeting spot. A sinister grin decorates the figure's malevolent profile. "The people of Infinity are a rash bunch, indeed. Meddlesome fools, your death will be slow and painful…I promise you that!"_

The veiled serial killer steps back into the darkness, disappearing from sight. It appears as if our next offender's taking a stealthy approach. As expected, The Moonwalker's following my group using unorthodox methods. It's one thing after the other – the King's _stalking_ us, and _now_ a serial killer's on our tail.

_What awaits us in the future? I haven't a clue…and I'm afraid to find out._

* * *

><p>Brother Johnny's sitting in the northernmost corner, which is nearest to Mary Victoria's cell. He hasn't moved from that spot since the security door was closed. The Twins are resting near Father Jorge's cell. No one's said anything since the Former Clergymen left… The silence is beyond peaceful – it's so <em>bloody<em> _quiet_, you could hear a pin drop.

"I wonder if everything's done and over with", sighs the bored Brother Jonathan.

"I was just thinking the same thing", seconds Mary Victoria. She looks up at her caged window, wondering what's happening outside. She listens through the wall with her left ear…and hears nothing. "No one's screaming, and I don't hear any explosions. Either they've come to a standstill, or the battle's over with."

Father Jorge notices the cradled Strigoi, and questions the Twins.

"What's wrong with your friend?" he asks.

"The Count's on his way here", explains Brother Joshua. "Brother Johnny is the Count's son. So, I'm guessing they have some kind of empathic connection."

"How's your heart, Johnny?" Brother Jonathan asks of the unnerved Strigoi.

The emotional nightwalker answers indirectly, refusing to look at anyone, "It's still cold… No, it's even _colder_ than before. This feeling…it's starting to bother me. I don't like it!"

Mary Victoria stands from her bed, and walks to the center of her cell. As the former _"Chief of Record Keeping"_ for the Church, the Vestal's _full_ of valuable information. What she's about to share is one of _many_ secrets hidden in the back of her mind.

"The Sire of the Count, Lord Johannes von Dracula, is _biologically_ tied to his father", she reports.

"What did you say…?" everyone in the House is frozen with overwhelming shock. Brother Johnny stands from his corner and confronts the knowledgeable inmate. "Talk to me. What do you mean by that?"

"Just as I said – your genetics are one with the Count's, which is normal. However, it comes with a forbidding price."

_"What is it?"_

"Lord Johannes…your blood _overexcites_ when you're father's near you", the Vestal's revelation robs her listeners of their words. Mary Victoria returns to her bed, crosses her legs and continues to explain herself with more detailed deliverance. "What you're feeling right now, Lord Johannes, is called _'The Broken Heart'_. Your emotions become so grim, so _painfully_ overwhelming, that you transmute into your original self: _a ravenous Kyonshī with an unquenchable desire for life energy_."

_"I…what?" Brother Johnny falls to his knees in disbelief._

"I'm sorry, Lord Johannes… But, having you around us is actually putting everyone in this room in grave danger. Master Leonard and Master Niccolò made a mistake when…"

"Shut up!" commands the emotional nightwalker, releasing glassy tears from his eyes. Everyone is stunned to see what's happened to his tears – they've gone from blood to _liquefied_ _glass_. "Shut up, I don't want to hear it anymore! _Boku wa shinai to kikou (I won't listen)!_"

"Monja (Nun), are you certain of this?" questions the concerned Necromancer.

"I wouldn't steer you wrong, especially about something like this", she confirms.

_"Tch! Esto es muy malo (This is very bad). Of all the times for us to be locked up."_

"Let's just pray that Master Leonard and Master Niccolò return soon", the security door suddenly begins to unlock. Everyone watches as the House door opens. Brother Heath's arrived, lightening the tension with his charming presence. "Well, I can't believe I'm saying this…but I'm glad to see you."

"What's the catch, Vickie?" smiles the humored Gunslinger.

"It's Lord Johannes. You _have_ to get him to a containment room."

"Why, did he commit an offense?" asks the confused Methuselah. Brother Johnny stands to his feet, and looks to his new friend with glassy eyes. Brother Heath jumps in a mode of shock. "Whoa! What the _heck_ happened to you, hombre…?"

"La Monja (The Nun) says that he's transforming", Father Jorge explains, grasping the Gunslinger's attention. The Twins stand to their feet, as the Necromancer continues. "El Conde's (The Count's) blood runs through his veins. We should've said something about this earlier. It's _unsafe_ for him to be running about when Valdo arrives. You'll be in danger if Brother Johnny becomes a Kyonshī. They're unlike any other vampire, and are _very_ dangerous fighters. In Mexico, we called the Kyonshī _Los Asesinos (The Killers)'_. That alone should tell you something about Lord Johannes's true power."

"He's right about that", Uncle Alexander arrives, having followed Brother Heath in his concerns. The Crusnik Lord's presence grasps the attention of everyone in the room. He approaches the slowly transforming Strigoi and speaks directly to him. "Jonathan, listen to me. It's dangerous for you to be free right now. Our best move, in consideration for the innocents on base, will be to place you under cybernetic confinement. I renovated the destroyed confinement chamber with my magic, so your room's ready for occupation."

_"What about…everyone else?" asks the concerned Strigoi._

"They're fine, young man. Come. I must escort you to Father Andrew's laboratory for prepping. Jonathan, Joshua, return to your quarters for the evening. We'll brief you on Johnny's progression by the hour. Brother Heath, you should do the same."

_"Yes, sir – for Infinity", salutes the Methuselah and the Twins, before departing from the House._

Uncle Alexander turns to Mary Victoria and delivers a very important message.

"Ms. Crawford, Master Niccolò and Master Leonard request your services", he reports, bringing a smile to the Vestal's face. The Crusnik Lord looks to Father Jorge and delivers a similar message. "Mr. Arias, your services will be needed as well. After some consideration, and a referral from your former superiors, we'd like to welcome you into our ranks. Stay in confinement or take the job – the choice is yours."

"We're already on your side, Sr. Crosse", confirms the Necromancer.

"We'll do what we can to help", seconds the Vestal.

_"Good show, children. Your release will be in the next 24-hours."_

"24 HOURS…?" exclaims the outraged inmates.

_"Yes, 24 hours. A day's timing is needed to register your paperwork and to get the approval of the Head Mother. Basic procedures and all."_

"Funny, now I know how a Gideonite under job review feels", laughs the Vestal, entertaining herself with a little workplace humor. No one's laughing with her. She smacks her teeth and turns her head with a smile. "Tch! Oh, whatever! I thought it was funny."

"It was charming, to say the least", the Crusnik Lord places his hand on the Strigoi's shoulder. He looks to Brother Johnny with an assuring smile. "Come along now, Jonathan. Your chamber's not going to fill itself."

_Brother Johnny lowers his head with shamed expression, "Okay. You lead the way."_

"Behave yourselves, children", kindly orders the Crusnik Lord, as he escorts the Strigoi to safety.

The cybernetic door closes behind them, and automatically secures the House. Father Jorge walks to his cot, has a seat and begins thinking… He cups his hands, wondering what will become of his pending release. Mary Victoria looks to her fellow inmate with curious eyes.

"What's wrong, Jorge?" she asks.

_"Nada, sólo pensar en algo (Nothing, just thinking about something)."_

"What are you thinking about?"

"What's it to you, Monja (Nun)?" questions the humored Necromancer.

_"Just concerned. My emotions have been on high as of late, so worrying about my friends comes natural."_

"Well, if you must know…I'm thinking about Damien."

"Again?" laughs the Vestal. "Can't you get him off your mind? He belongs to Mr. Bennett."

"No puedo (I can't). It's hard, Victoria – I like him _so much_, but…"

"Jorge, listen to me", Mary Victoria's kind tone captivates the emotional Luchador. "Damien's a very _delicate_ person. If you force yourself into his life, you'll end up chasing him away. Instead of stealing him away from Mr. Bennett like a lovesick _crook_, you should try to be his _friend_ instead… Me, on the other hand – I've someone to catch up with upon my release."

_"Someone to catch up with? What do you mean by that?"_

"It's not all that different from your situation", Mary Victoria relieves herself of her headdress, revealing her beautiful head of curly hair. She symbolically tosses her headdress to the ground, impressing her inmate. "That was 'Step 1'. Now, in 24-hours, I must talk to Sister Eve."

Father Jorge curiously tilts his head, "Do you have business with her?"

_"It's not 'business', Jorge… It's making up for a lot of lost time."_

Mary Victoria's hiding something personal from her fellow Ex-Clergyman.

What business could she have with Sister Eve? That's a mystery in itself… With the Count now less than an hour away from Infinity HQ, the entire center of operations is in grave danger. What nightmares await the safeguarding trio of Mother Wendy, Father Niccolò and Father Leonard? Only time will tell.

* * *

><p>"AWW, where are they-hihi?" yawns the lazy Brother Naofumi in his Yoko form. Currently, he's resting on a couch in one of the Franklin Resort's private rooms. Father Luis and the rest of the Rolling Stones are there, waiting for our party to arrive. "Mmm, this couch is very comfortable-hihi. It makes my fur feel nice-hihi."<p>

"_Why_ are you in your Yoko form, Sergeant Yamamoto?" questions the highly annoyed Leader. Paul approaches his subordinate, picks the Yoko up by his pelt and makes him whine. "Would you change back before you get us in trouble? Room service passes through here every hour, you know."

"Gomenasai (I'm sorry), I'll change back-hihi!" the spontaneous Yoko transforms into his normal state. He has a seat next to Father Luis, who is currently reading a newspaper article. The curious 9-Tails noses in on his comrade's activities. "What are you reading, Urive-sama?"

"An article about The Moonwalker", answers the concentrating Luchador. "It's a report about his preceding victim – a young man named 'Salvatore Bono'. From what it says, he was going to meet with his girlfriend, Cherilyn Sarkisian, but he didn't show up. He was found dead, drained of every ounce of lifeblood in his body, at precisely 9:30 AM yesterday morning. He was a resident of Aldington for 3 years, and had plans to marry his girlfriend by the end of this year. Una historia tan triste (Such a sad story)."

"That bastard's taken way too many lives", snarls the angered Co-Leader. Stephanie stands from her chair, approaches the window and gets a good view of Aldington's crowded streets… She notices the arrival of Natalie's group in the parking lot. Stephanie also notices the change in her superior's numbers. "Katherine's here, but she's short a few men. Paddington, Damien, and Stuart aren't with her."

"Knowing her, she has her reasons", passes her loving husband. Brother Anthony picks up a very peculiar smell. His aggravated sniffing grasps his comrades' attention. Paul decides to cut a crack at his subordinate's canine-like nature. "What is it, Wolf Boy? Caught a whiff of some barbeque or something? If you did, point me in the right direction; I'm damn near starving to death."

"Sorry, Capitano (Captain), but I'm not smelling barbeque…its blood", the untransformed Werewolf's revelation disturbs his comrades. Brother Anthony stands to his feet, and excuses himself to follow the scent. "I will return shortly. I must investigate. Keep Mother Katherine company while I'm gone."

_"Wait a second. Take Yamamoto with you, Wolf Boy. We'll handle the rest."_

"Yay, a buddy mission-hihi!" cheers the Yoko in his transformed state. His aggravated Leader grabs him by his pelt, making him whine in a world of pain. "Yip-yip, I'll transform, I'll transform-hihi!"

"Uh-huh, don't let it happen again, Fox Boy", Sergeant Yamamoto transforms back to his normal self. Paul releases his subordinate's hair, as his wife giggles under her breath. The Ace Vanguards leave the private room to their superiors. The Leader has a seat on the couch, and smiles. "You know, four years ago, I was just another man working for the WWE. Now, I'm fighting vampires with my wife, a mass of vampire rebels and two clowns. Life sure knows how to change on you at the last minute."

"I heard that", smiles the humored Co-Leader. Stephanie has a seat next to her husband, and cradles against him. Paul holds his lovely wife, as she begins thinking about their family. "I wonder how the kids are doing. They're pretty attached to their Uncle Shane, but I'm starting to worry about them. Kids aren't safe with _bloodsuckers_ running around and everything… We should give them a call after the meeting."

"I'm way ahead of you, Baby."

"Paul, I'm not a 'baby' anymore", giggles the blushing Co-Leader.

"Yeah, but you're _my_ baby. Daddy's going to need a little 'extra attention' tonight."

"Sure, _if_ we can get a moment to ourselves. With The Moonwalker at large, killing innocent people, we're always on-call. _But_, I'll be sure to make a note of that on my 'To Do' list."

"Looks like the Honeymoon's far from over", jests the reading Luchador, humoring his amorous comrades. A knock comes from their door. Father Luis answers the door, reciting the beginning of a confidential, rehearsed password. "Why is your face hidden from the sun?"

"Because I'm the walking dead, and I tan easily", answers the smiling Natalie. Father Luis opens the door, inviting his superiors into the private room. Paul stands to his feet and greets his Head Mother with a handshake. Stephanie does the same. "Sorry it took us so long, Paul, Stephanie."

"Where's the rest of your crew, Madre (Mother) Katherine?" asks the curious Luis.

"Pursuing The Moonwalker's next target: a girl named Whitney Houston. Not only that, but Henry's stalking us. I think he plans on attacking, but I'm so sure about that anymore."

"Why the change of heart?" Stephanie asks.

"Henry would've attacked us by now. This would've been the perfect opportunity for him to take us out, but he hasn't made a single move… That's not like him."

"Then, we'll rule him out until he becomes hostile", strategically decides the Leader of the Rolling Stones. Paul looks to Father Luis for the remainder of the briefing. "Lu, do your stuff."

The Masked Radical retrieves a mini-computer from his business suit. He enters a personal access code, and accesses a holographic profile of The Moonwalker. Everyone pays close attention to Father Luis's explanation.

"Raquel Wilmer Creed III: a 'Class D –' nightwalker of Norwegian decent. He comes from an aristocratic family in Oslo that owned 45% of the city, and had substantial influence over the Norwegian government. Creed was supposed to inherit his father's business, but was bitten by none other than El Conde (The Count) circa May 1649. Unable to contain his bloodlust, he killed his entire family and some innocents of Oslo. He was driven out of the city by an angry mob, and subsequently developed a vendetta against both vampires and humans. Creed took the persona of 'The Moonwalker', donning silver garments and a matching top hat. In less than a year, Creed became notorious for' taking no prisoners', executing everyone in sight – man, woman, child, and beast. His existence is based on the element of Empathy, and is called _'Blood on the Dance Floor'_. His symbol left behind is a moon created from his victims' blood. Creed is considered to be a '1-man army', and is very dangerous. Infinity HQ's Criminal Research Facility has deemed Creed as a Level 5 threat."

"Sounds like a comic book villain", snickers the humored Father John.

"Sí (Yes), but he's short _a few_ _hundred_ _goons_ and is _ten-times_ _battier_ _than_ _The Joker_", Father Luis deactivates his holographic projection and retreats his mini-computer into his business suit. He extends a plan to his comrades. "I advise that we work in conjunction with Estuardo's (Stuart's) group. If Sra. Houston is The Moonwalker's next target, he's sure to be found lurking around their area of investigation."

"Do you really think it's wise to leave Henry unattended?" questions the concerned Brother Theodore.

"I was just thinking that myself", seconds Father Yuvraj.

"If he chooses to interfere, we'll cut him down where he stands", Paul's cellphone rings. He takes the call, already knowing who it is. "Did you find anything?"

"Ten bodies, dead in the facility's storage room", reports Brother Naofumi. "Kiba-kun (Fang) has picked up traces of vampire DNA on the victims' skin. From the looks of things, they've been dead since last night. We've already contacted the police."

Paul holds his head in annoyance, "Damn! This guy works fast!"

"What do you suggest we do from here, Shachō (Boss)?"

"Keep the authorities busy, and make sure to conceal your badges. Aldington's a Gideonite capital, so we don't want them suspecting us of _any_ kind of misconduct."

"Ryōkai (Roger)", understands the Yoko, before ending his call.

"What was that all about?" questions the Head mother.

"Yamamoto and Carelli found ten dead-heads in the storage room, courtesy of The Moonwalker. The authorities are on their way as we speak."

"Then, we better get moving. Aldington Press will go _berserk_ if they see me _anywhere_ near this resort."

"Good call, Boss Lady. Let's move out."

* * *

><p>It appears as if The Moonwalker's more of a fearful enemy that one would expect. He has <em>all<em> of Aldington ensnared in his web of death. No one's exempt from his path of destruction. Currently, Stephen, Damien and I have tailed Ms. Houston to a restaurant called "Café Suzette". Her Internet buddy's nowhere in sight, so I'm guessing he may have stood her up… However, as time progresses, a young man joins her at Ms. Houston's reserved table.

I nudge Stephen, grasping his attention, "Hey. I think that's him – the Internet buddy."

My team members catch a good glimpse of this so-called "Internet buddy".

"Looks fairly normal to me", my fiancé dismisses.

"No, I won't pass him off as just that. That's too risky."

"Hold on, Green Day's picking up something", Stephen concentrates his existence, summoning his emerald brambles. Green Day senses a strong vampiric energy wave circulating through the young man's body via psychography. He gets a confirming image: _traces of territorial energy within the Internet buddy's blood_. "He's a vampire, but it looks as if he's able to 'conceal his true image'. Whoever this lad is, he's good at disguising himself."

"Do you think he'll attack her?" Damien asks.

"Not in plain sight", the Internet buddy looks to us for a split second, and then returns his attention to his date. We continue reading our lunch menu to remain incognito. I give my team specific orders. "He knows we're watching him. Act natural and wait for him to make any suspicious moves."

Our target and her rendezvous are now on the move. The "Internet buddy's" probably reacting to our presence. We wait until the couple's near the door before standing.

"Everyone, let's get going", I order.

"Okay", understands my party.

Our target's rendezvous obviously knows _who_ we are and has something to hide. If he weren't behaving so suspiciously, we wouldn't be tailing Ms. Houston's party… Using the rooftops, my team pursues our target with the upmost precaution. There's no telling what will happen when we finally reach a stopping point.

_Hopefully, Ms. Houston's life won't be in danger when that happens._

* * *

><p>Time's up… The safeguarding trio stands from their seats in Infinity HQ's courtyard. In the distance, a set of headlights are seen approaching the center of operation's highly secured gates. The Count's and the Archbishop's existences are starting to build up… As feared, they're coming with "loaded guns".<p>

"This is it", sighs the nervous Abbess. Mother Wendy preps her comrades for the enemy's arrival. "Boys, are you ready to face the past?"

"Sí, sorella maggiore (Yes, elder sister)", nods the Former Cardinal.

"Fate does not scare me", seconds the Former Pope, as the Count's limousine parks at the gate.

"They're here. Brace yourselves, boys."

The Count's chauffer aborts the driver's seat, walks the left rear door and opens it for his masters. The Lord of the Night steps from his backseat, dressed in his best hooded travelling suit. His overwhelming power sends a chill through every soul in the facility. Mother Wendy clenches her fists, attempting to squeeze the fear from her bones… To no avail, she still feels a cold sting of trepidation in her heart.

("I've been waiting for this moment for centuries…so why…?") the beautiful Abbess places her right fist to her heart, realizing how afraid she's become. ("…Why am I so scared? Come on, Wendelina, pull yourself together! Your husband's standing right in front of you, and now's your chance to…")

Mother Wendy notices the corrupted image of her beloved – the abominated beast known as "a Dietrich". Her heart drops with despondency, reacting to the overwhelming pain of seeing what's become of her husband. Count Valdo and Archbishop Thaddeus approaches the gate with demanding charisma.

"You!" the Count points to the trio of safeguards in the courtyard. "Open the door. Now!"

"You've no business here, Conte Valdo!" Niccolò declines with commanding tone.

"Cardinal Niccolò, is that you? What are you doing cavorting with the enemy?"

_"What I should've done centuries ago: indirectly tell you to 'kiss my ass', you psychotic bastardo (bastard)! Unfortunately for you, the Church is slowly leaving your side. I predict that, in less than a year, your entire movement will become nothing more than a forgotten record in a college textbook."_

"He's right, and that's why we've cut our ties to your madman's crusade!" Leonard seconds.

"Moody Blues, you too!" outrages the Count. Thaddeus looks to his master with uneasy eyes, for he knows how violent the Master Vampire can become. However, despite the grave insults that lie before him, Count Valdo remains calm. "Fine. So you've decided to dig your own graves. I'm a man of understanding, and I can excuses this ignorance once…_and only once_. I offer you _one_ chance to return to me. If you refuse, I will break this gate down and killer EVERYONE on this base… All except for my son."

"You mean the son you will never see?" questions the bold Abbess, angering the Count even further. Mother Wendy looks to her corrupted husband with melancholic eyes. To exact a small ounce of her revenge, the Mother Superior plays mind games with her archenemy. "Just like you've kept me from my husband, my friends and I will keep _you_ from your son. From what I've heard, he doesn't even want to see you… Your very image _breaks_ his heart to pieces! Pitiful – a man who's a threat to his own child's existence!"

"You will NOT speak to the Count with such arrogant verse, lest you wish your tongue ripped out!" scolds the Archbishop, before clinging to his master's right arm. Mother Wendy is silenced. The corrupted Ecclesiast looks to his wife and former comrades with resentful eyes. "You will address the Lord of the Night with respect. Always."

_"Thaddeus, what's happened to you?" questions the emotional Abbess._

"Nothing you can handle or cure. I like being this way… I've got more power in my hands than ever before. Count Valdo is an amazing man…_and lover_."

_"No…no, you didn't let him…?"_

"He turned Thaddeus into a Dietrich", Leonard angers.

_"You coward!" Niccolò roars, enraged by what the Count's done to his brother-in-law. The precipitation in the air begins to excite, forming water bubbles that instantly changes color. The water bubbles turn purple, and start to converge with the Cryobiologist's body. "Thaddeus belongs to Wendelina, not you! You will pay for what you've done to their marriage!"_

"I cannot overlook this, either!" Leonard's voice becomes fierce, as a cluster of stars forms around his body. In the same manner as his fellow Ex-Clergyman, the cosmos surrounding him converges with his body. The two energizing radicals are donned with metallic armor made from pure elemental energy. "Wendy, get ready for an attack. You must save your emotions for later."

"I'm way ahead of you", Mother Wendy invokes the spiritual energy around the area via her existence. A quartet of winged female specters appear before her body. She holds her hands forward, summoning gauntlets of pure alexandrite crystals upon her forearms, before balling her fists for the battle ahead. "Valdo, you will pay for your sins this evening. And, I will take my husband back by force!"

"Hmph! What a pitiful little front the lot of you are", laughs the arrogant Master Vampire. Count Valdo looks to his loyal Dietrich for assistance. "Thaddeus, my love, expose of them for me."

"As you wish", the corrupted Archbishop excites the water vapor surrounding his right hand.

Thaddeus aims his energized hand at the gate, and unleashes a powerful ray of golden liquid! The liquids make crash into the gate, placing overwhelming pressure on its cybernetic security shielding… The shield begins to crack, reacting to the Archbishop's influential power!

At the same time, Brother Johnny feels his heartbeat becoming violent! He falls to his knees, being overwhelmed by the freezing pain that's taken over his entire body!

_"My heart…AAH…!" the pain's too much for him to handle._

Father Andrew notices that something terrible is happening to the suffering Strigoi: _his body's developing a furiously animated black aura!_ His hair's beginning to elongate and solidify, his skin's losing a substantial amount of pigmentation, and his aura's ferocious wind's beginning to rip at his clothes!

The Cyber-technologist does everything to sustain his subject's brain waves and energy level using his technology… But, it appears as if his work's all for naught – Brother Johnny's power level continues to rise!

_"Make it stop…MAKE IT STOP…!" Johnny screams, hoping that God will hear his cries._

His shirt is completely ripped from his body, revealing frightening protrusions of genetic glass from the linings of his upper body and arms! Uncle Alexander and Grandpa Christopher enter the laboratory, after gaining access using the room's security keypad.

They hurry to Father Andrew's side, concerned for the subject's mental state.

"What's happening to him?" questions my concerned Grandfather.

"Valdo's here, and my technology's going haywire with this much energy output!" Father Andrew's keypad sparks, signifying a system overload. T.A.T.U. appears on the supercomputer's screen, worried for her creator's safety. "T.A.T.U., are you all right?"

_"I am, Father Andrew… Forgive me for this, but I must ask you to leave this place."_

"What? T.A.T.U., I'm not leaving you behind!"

_"In the past hour, I modified the Methuselahs' recovery rate to 200%. All units are at 100%, and are ready to be dispatched. Lord Frederic's expected to recover in 5 minutes. Until then, you must leave this place. Brother Curtis's transformed state is too much to handle, even for someone as powerful as yourself."_

"Why are you asking me to run away?" questions the emotional Cyber-technologist.

_"I know this is a foolish thing to do…but…if all else fails, I'll send a massive wave of Crimson Matter throughout the facility by self-detonating myself."_

"No! T.A.T.U., I forbid you to do something so reckless!" orders the outraged Noise Master.

"There must be another way", seconds the Crusnik Lord.

_"I'm afraid there isn't, Mr. Crosse. If anything, my electrical discharge will inflict the Count with irreversible wounds… This is my way of showing that even machines have hearts. Please, you must understand my feelings… None of you can defeat the Count, so my life would be at risk regardless of what transpires. If you can hold him off for 10 more minutes, I'll be able to pull this off. Refugees are being transferred to the Barcelonan Branch via cybernetic teleportation as we speak… It's all right. I know what I'm doing."_

"Listen to her…AND GET OUT OF HERE…!" pleads the suffering Strigoi. As his body continues to transform, he makes a final request of his comrades. "My mind…is fading… My father's here, I can feel it! Before I lose myself, I want all of my friends to leave this place… And don't forget about Mary Victoria and Jorge – they're not bad people once you talk to them for a while. Dad…is strong! He's strong enough to kill you all…and I'm afraid…that I might…kill you too! If I take anyone's life…I'm sorry… Please…please, don't hate me!"

"Father Andrew, all of you, leave this place", requests the security system.

T.A.T.U. watches her creator lower his head, submitting to her wishes. The Cyber-technologist nods, turns on his heel and evacuates the area. Uncle Alexander and Grandpa Christopher follow in his footsteps. As the laboratory's security door closes, T.A.T.U. looks to the suffering Brother Johnny with mournful eyes.

("Everything's falling apart… Brother Curtis is reacting to his father's presence, by transmuting into a pureblood Kyonshī. Everyone's in danger of being killed, and the only thing I can do is sacrifice myself for their safety. My life was short, but I'm glad that I was created. Father Andrew, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me… Commencing 'Mass Biological Self-Destruction' procedures – detonation time: 10 minutes.")

T.A.T.U.'s absolutely right – everything _is_ falling apart… Who knew that the Count's presence would have such a drastic effect on Brother Johnny's biological _and_ psychological state? When he fully transforms, the entire foundation of Infinity HQ will be shaken with overwhelming carnage. And my Great-grandfather's currently unconscious, expected to awaken in the next 5 minutes… Out of everyone on the base, he's the only fighter who can possibly thwart the Master Vampire's merciless assault.

Father Andrew contacts all fighters on base using telepathy, ("Everyone, to the courtyard. T.A.T.U.'s planning a mass detonation. If we can hold Valdo off for 10 minutes, we'll be able to weaken him… Best wishes on the battlefield, my friends – for Infinity!")

("For Infinity!") salutes the radicals.

The Methuselahs are on the move, including the revived Sister Eve. The Twins are on the move as well, hoping to arrive at the confrontation before anything grim transpires… Everyone's cooperation is needed in this battle. This may very well be _the beginning of the end_. My party's currently dealing with the situation in Aldington – a serial killer named The Moonwalker. With the King on our backs, stalking us at every corner, what will become of our mission?

Will we be successful at stopping this murderer at large?

Will T.A.T.U.'s plan be successful?

What nightmarish power is the transformed Brother Johnny capable of?

Will Mother Wendy ever get her husband back? These questions and many more will be answered sooner than you think… I pray for the safety of everyone.

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme – "Colors" by Utada Hikaru)<em>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Up Next: Chapter 21 – Angel of Mine)<em>**


	22. Chapter 21: Angel of Mine

_**BLOOD/Night**_

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><p>Once again, my mind's taking me years into the past. At a time like this, I find it rather odd to remember my first argument with Damien… It was over something silly; a subject that I find to be quite juvenile…and a little embarrassing. However, despite the nature of the issue at hand, I consider this to be one of my fondest memories.<p>

**_***Flashback to Cardiff, Wales – Christmas Eve of 2005…***_**

Our families gathered at _the Diamonds & Pearls Resort_ for the Holidays. It was a glorious image of family bonding: our fathers cackling over clever anecdotes about the opposite sex, our mothers sharing beauty tips and gossip, my brother lazing around with his girlfriend, and me…tending to my loving boy. I enjoyed every moment of our family getaway, and so did my lover.

When nightfall came, we retired to our bedrooms. The snowfall was light, gentle and soothing. The central heating system kept us warm, as we cuddled under our comfy bed sheets. Damien's skin was always so soft and warm… By that time, I really started to become spoiled behind him – I couldn't be away from my boyfriend for more than two seconds. So, unlike some men, I made a rather serious confession.

_"Damien…"_

"What is it, dear?"

_"…Would you be angry with me if I said that…well…"_

"Out with it, Stuey", he giggled, amused by my bashful behavior.

_"To be frank with you…Daddy gets a little jealous when you're around other men."_

He gazed into the warmth of my eyes, and saw traces of guilt buried deeply inside of them. Damien always said that my eyes were like "clearwater oceans of feelings"… Even without saying as much as a one-letter phrase, Sweets could read me like a book. He thought lightly about it, and gave me an honest answer.

"No, but I would be concerned about it."

_"Why?"_

"Because I wouldn't want you hurting others for my sake", he stood from our rented bed, and dismissed himself from my presence. He took minor refuge near the window, and gazed out into the snowy night skies of Cardiff. Judging from his body language at the time, he wasn't very pleased to think that of me – that I was a very jealous man, _and_ I had a lot of growing up to do. "Stuart, that's not a good way to be. Jealousy is the _destroyer_ of men. If you wish to be that way…then I won't be with you anymore."

_"What? Why, after all we've been through?"_

"You ask 'why' like you don't already know. I thought you knew me better than that, Mr. Bennett."

"Mr. Bennett…?" I stood from our rented bed, approached him and cradled his smaller frame in my arms. Damien refused to look at me, and I knew why; I wasn't dumb to it. Like a real man should, I humbly apologized to my lover and explained myself my clearly. "Forgive me, Damien. I was wrong for feeling that way. Perhaps, with your help, I could learn to mature a little more than I already have… Damien, I'm just _crazy_ about you…because I _know_ you're the one for me. Sometimes, it's hard on me – thinking horrible things when another man, stronger and more handsome than I am, attempts to charm you with his charisma and boyish charm…"

"Enough, Stuart", he turned around and clung to me with loving arms.

_"Damien, I…"_

"Just hold me…please", I obeyed, pulling him closer to me with warm embrace. "Don't say anything else. I forbid you to act or behave invidiously. Our love's stronger than any man, let alone an army of them. Stuart, I want you to trust me. If can do that one thing for me, our relationship will continue to blossom… I want our love to be like a rosebud: full of beauty, yet closed to the world; no foreign body can enter our domain of love, until our petals unravel to the world."

_"That was beautiful, Sweets. I agree. Let our love be as you desire, no…as WE desire."_

"Kiss me, Stuart", I obeyed him once again, and kissed him softly…lovingly.

Our kiss was warm and beautiful… Damien's lips were sweet like a soft candy, but it seemed _much_ _sweeter_ at that moment. Our love grew stronger because of that minor argument, which I must say was the _cutest_ little spat I ever did have. We made love, and welcomed Christmas Morning with tenderness.

**_***…Back to the present***_**

With time, my jealousy subsided and became a faint memory. I am now able to trust Damien 100%, knowing well that he wishes to be in my arms…_and my arms alone_. When I proposed to him, I meant every word of it… Damien's my past, my present, _and_ my future – someone that I plan on being with for the _rest_ of my life.

_Would it be funny if I said that…when I'm around him…I feel like I'm "flying"?_

Bette Midler put it best: Damien is the "wind beneath my wings". I always want to soar through the skies of his love, never once touching the ground. When all of this is done and over with, I will marry him right away. For now, I've a mission to deal with… The Moonwalker's sure to pursue Ms. Houston, and my team's suspicions are focused on her rendezvous: a suspicious "Internet buddy" who behaves with chary character. King Henry's also lurking around, waiting to attack us at the right moment. What will become of latest field mission? I do not know, but I pray that everything goes well for us.

_The epic saga continues…_

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><p><strong><em>(Opening Theme 2 – "Chikyuugi" by Matsuzawa Yumi)<em>**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 21 – <strong>**Angel of Mine**_

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><p>The sun's slowly beginning to set into the horizon. Nightfall isn't long from now. At most, Europe only has another hour before everything becomes dark… Before everything becomes…a warzone.<p>

Chaos already ensues at Infinity HQ, where the corrupted Archbishop Thaddeus unleashes an onslaught of the Gold Experience's liquids upon T.A.T.U.'s defensive barrier. With every passing second, the crack placed in the center of the cybernetic shield widens. Soon, very soon, the Count will be one step closer to retrieving his beloved son. Niccolò, Leonard, and Mother Wendy stand strong, ready to face the Master Vampire's wrath. There's no telling what will transpire…once T.A.T.U.'s defenses are broken.

"The shield's not going to hold for very much longer", estimates the Former Pope.

"How much longer will it stand?" questions the edgy Niccolò.

"Another minute at most."

_"Another minute? Dannazione (Damn), just how strong has Thaddeus become?"_

"Too strong", answers the concentrating Abbess, grasping her comrades' attention. "Listen to me, boys. Thaddeus isn't himself right now. If you need to get rough with him, I'll allow it. I don't plan on holding back either. If we do, he'll kill us where we stand. Frederic was one thing, but Thaddeus… He's in a power class that we probably won't be able to handle on our own."

T.A.T.U.'s Level 6: Black defensive barrier is shattered! The Count smiles, pleased by his Dietrich's destructive handiwork. The remainder of the Infinity HQ's defenders are in the distance, racing to aid their comrades before the first strike… Thaddeus calms his liquids, and enters through the opened gates.

"Now that your petty shield's no more…it's time to have some fun", malevolently announces the corrupted Archbishop, as golden water bubbles spontaneously appear around his body. Father Andrew, Uncle Alexander, Grandpa Christopher, the Twins and the Methuselahs arrive to stand by their comrades. Thaddeus is impressed by their resolve. "Congratulations, everyone, for finding the courage to face us… _Heh-heh-heh!_ This is _perfect_ – I can honor my master by finishing you all off, right here and now!"

"What are you doing out here?" questions the concerned Mother Wendy of the Cyber-technologist.

"Carrying out T.A.T.U.'s wishes, lassie."

_"T.A.T.U.'s…wishes?"_

"What are you going on about, Lab Rat?" questions the annoyed Dietrich.

"You don't have to worry about that, Thad", Father Andrew boldly steps forward, sporting his overbearing Scottish gusto and mannish charisma. "All _you_ need to know is this: _you have 10 minutes to defeat us_. Since time's already passed a minute or two, I say you've got _lesser than 8_. If you're as strong as you _claim_ to be, Thaddeus, you'll be a good little _bitch_ and finish us before the clock runs out on you. Oh, it's going to be _hilarious_ watching 'Big Daddy Val' pimp-slap his 'street whore' in front of the enemy. So, what's it going to be, Thad – make that money or get slapped something funny?"

"How about we just 'turn on the waterworks' instead?" the Dietrich develops a black aura upon his daunting frame. His targets are stunned, having never sensed this much power from him in the past! Thaddeus laughs at their fear. "Amusing. You seem to have lost your sense of self-confidence, and I haven't even activated my existence yet… Who's the 'bitch' _now_, radical scum?"

"That is NOT the Gold Experience…" shudders Brother Randal.

"What the hell kind of power is that?" seconds Sister Eve. The Combat Specialist activates her HUD sensory vision, and receives terrifying results: _Thaddeus's power level is rated 'incalculable'_. "This can't be right."

"What's wrong, E?" questions the concerned Brother Jayson.

_"My A.I.'s going nuts just trying to read his power level. S, SS, no…SSS? Jesus, it's…it's off the freaking charts! I can't get a simple reading on him for nothing!"_

"Calm down, Eve, or you'll give yourself a migraine", orders the Cyber-technologist.

"Yes, Father", Eve deactivates her HUD.

"I'm glad you're so fascinated by my power, but it pales in comparison to my Lord", a black territory spreads from the Dietrich's body. Everything in the area becomes pitch black; so black that one's unable to see their hand in front of their face. The corrupted Archbishop's laughter mocks the blinded souls at every turn. "Can you see your fate? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…! Of course you can't. Not in my 'world of darkness' at least."

"This is just like Henry's existence, Dark Side Moon", dismisses my confident Grandfather. Thaddeus laughs at the Half-breed's arrogance. Grandpa Christopher is offended. "What the hell are you laughing at? Not a damn thing I said was funny!"

"Moonlight Mile the Protected One, wielder of Sticky Fingers – an Existence of Empathy. Your arrogance is notorious and your power is much more frightening… However, your intelligence is lacking just a bit."

"What are you talking about, Beatles?"

"Dark Side Moon's power is _nothing_ compared to the darkness you see before you. My darkness is _much_ _dimmer_ than a moonless night. And now, I will show you its power…by killing every single last one of you!"

The darkness inflicts the ensnared party with a spiritual ailment, draining them of their life energy! Their screams of pain decorate the darkness with a melody of death… Count Valdo smiles, finding great pleasure in the sound of the enemy's forthcoming demise. Thaddeus's voice mocks the weakening radicals.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…! I love it! Your screams are like music to my ears… How do you like my new existence's life draining power? Would a 'bitch' have this much authority over your _pathetic_ lives?"

"What…is this?" wails the suffering Sister Sarona.

"I…can't…move…" struggles Brother Jonathan.

"It's the Count's power!" answers the agonizing Crusnik Lord. "It's been combined with Thaddeus's existence… I've never felt such a territory in all my life!"

"Correct, Eater-scum, my Lord has placed only a _small_ portion of his power inside of my body with a kiss. My Lord's love is boundless, and is strong enough to bury _all_ of you in a pool of blood. I will now have your souls become one with my Lord…with the love of my life! _Consume the spirit…**The Gold Experience: Omega!**_"

Needles of golden liquid, spawned from the Dietrich's corrupted existence, forms above the grounded party's weakened bodies! Unable to move, they're helpless to stop his deadly assault. If these needles make contact with their bodies…everyone trapped inside of the Gold Experience: Omega…will die.

"Goodnight, radical scum…!" the Dietrich allows his crystallized liquid needles to rain upon his target… However, something goes wrong: a power increase has suddenly developed in his wife's body. The Dark Ecclesiast's eyes widen in shock. "Huh? Where is that power coming from?"

**_Mother Wendy activates her existence, "Dance beautifully! Black Veil Brides!"_**

The Abbess's quartet of ghostly maidens emerges from her grounded frame, and holds their hands into the air… A powerful field of ethereal light spreads from their palms and covers the Mother Superior's party with a 2dimensional protective shield! The crystallized liquid needles dig into Mother Wendy's shield, but are instantly vaporized by Black Veil Brides' defensive power.

Thaddeus is impressed by his wife's tenacity.

"Bravo, Wendy!" he applauds, clapping his hands with egotistical character.

"Thaddeus, I've had enough of this!" the angered Abbess struggles to stand to her feet…but somehow manages to do so with time. The Archbishop cruelly laughs at her efforts. "Laugh at me all you want, you know you still love me. You can choose to be weak all you want, but that won't stop me… _No one_ will stop me from taking you back! You're MY husband; not anyone else's! I was scared before…but now…I'M JUST PISSED OFF!"

"Love? Me love you? Ha! What a fairytale… Face it, Wendy, the 'old Thaddeus' is gone. There's nothing you can do to bring him back, and you know that better than anyone else. Stop fooling yourself, woman."

Mother Wendy loses her balance for a second, and catches herself by falling onto her hands and knees. Niccolò finds the strength to stand to his feet… He approaches his fallen sister, and aids her to her feet. With a mass of emotion in his voice, fueled by anger, the Former Cardinal speaks to his brainwashed brother-in-law.

"We are immortals:_ living ghosts that know neither life or death_. We should be dead, having existed for _hundreds_ of years, but we chose to keep on living…to save you and everyone who's been poisoned by that _bastardo (bastard)_ standing behind you. Taddeo, mio fratello (Thaddeus, my brother), I know you're still inside of there…I know you're trapped inside of that shell of evil. You love Wendelina with all your heart and soul, and in the end…_she_ is the one you wish to hold. _She_ is the one that makes your world revolve, not Valdo. If you truly are as powerful as you say, _you'll_ be the one to open your eyes… If not, then we, your friends, will open them for you."

Everyone stands to their feet, resisting the influence of the corrupted Archbishop's existence… Thaddeus is impressed by his targets' resolution. He arrogantly smiles at them, noticing that they're not making a single move. It's as if they've given up the fight.

"What, are you just going to stand there all evening?" questions the amused Dietrich.

"If we fight you, you'll die. Do you really want that, Taddeo?"

"Want it? I'm _dying_ to have it. I'd like to see all of you give me your _best_ shot."

"You've been warned, Taddeo", Niccolò excites his existence, spreading his violet territory from his frame.

The remainder of the Infinity radicals do the same, combining their territories to create a field of pure territorial energy! The field's expansion is near 5050 bm, which is a few miles larger than a smalltown. Despite the immense power increase, the Archbishop remains calm in the face of his enemy.

"I'm guessing this is the moment where I'm supposed to be intimidated, right?" Thaddeus's unruffled arrogance offends his enemies. To answer their challenge, he lifts his right hand and summons a large sphere of golden liquids in front of his body. The Infinity radicals are stunned by the object's immense structure! "I will now honor you by finishing you all with my _strongest_ technique. If your souls actually crossover to Paradise, please, remember the face of the man that took your life?"

"Everyone, unleash your existence at full power!" commands the Cyber-technologist.

"Okay!" understands the radicals.

The radicals cast their existences forward as an immense sphere of territorial energy! The Count marvels at the potency of Infinity's tenacious will… He never once thought they'd possess _this_ level of spectral muscle. However, Thaddeus sees this as mere child's play. With blasé tone, he unleashes his ultimate attack.

"100%...Ghastly Shriek!" he casts his sphere of golden liquids forward. The sphere of golden liquids then takes the form of a large watery serpent. The radicals are stunned by the Dietrich's abilities, having never felt such power in all their years of rebellion… Thaddeus's new powers are _overwhelmingly_ dominant! The two energy waves clash, but the radicals' attack is instantly overpowered by the Archbishop's 100% Ghastly Shriek! The radicals are frozen with fear, and gaze into the face of death. Thaddeus mocks their weakness with coldhearted laughter. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! This is goodbye, Infinity dregs!"

All of a sudden, a miracle occurs: _a small projection of the sun forms in the middle of the 100% Ghastly Shriek's path of destruction!_ Everyone is stunned to see such an odd phenomenon… Count Valdo's eyes widen, knowing the origins of this kind of power.

"Is that…the core of an existence of the sun?" gasps the Lord of the Night.

_"Right you are, Val-my-boy!"_

"Hm?" the Count looks forward to see a very frightening image. He shudders with fear, causing everyone else to look in the direction of the HQ building. "It can't be… Frederic, is that you?"

My Great-grandfather has finally arrived, fashionably late as usual. Grandpa Christopher runs into his father's arms, glad to see him alive and well. Grandpa Frederic holds his only begotten son with warm embrace.

"Dad…I'm so glad you're here…" weeps the emotional field agent.

"No tears now, son. Papa's got work to do. Suck it up."

"Okay, Dad", Grandpa Christopher releases his father, and allows him to proceed forward.

The Legendary Protagonist struts forward, sporting his trademark "Von Alucard swagger". With a simple snapping of his right fingers, the 100% Ghastly Shriek is absorbed into his miniaturized projection of the sun! Everyone's shocked to see what the Pureblood's just pulled off… Grandpa Frederic explains himself.

"You see that? That's a _new_ little power I gathered in my suffering. My existence of the sun has received a substantial power increase, thanks to the King's ingenious darkness… And the cooperation of my friends. The fusion of light and darkness that creates an all-powerful supernova. I call my new existence 'Sunlight Queen'."

_"Sunlight…?" fascinates the Abbess._

_"….Queen?" seconds the Former Pope._

"That's impossible!" snaps the Archbishop. "Darkness and light cannot fuse, lest it brings the end of the world. How can _you_, a mere pureblood, gain access to such an ability?"

_"I've people who care about me enough to risk their lives for my sake. I'm willing to do the same and, in my resolve, I've awakened the essence of life itself – the power of mana!"_

"The power of…what…?" outrages the Cyber-technologist. "Fred, that type of power's not even accessible to vampires. How the hell did you manage to muster that up?"

_"I used the emotions that I've had bottled up inside of me for hundreds of years…" the Legendary Protagonist places his hand onto his chest, feeling the gentle beat of his heart. He closes his eyes and allows his projection of the sun to hastily fuse with the core of his body! "…That projection…was the essence of everything that I am. Humans call such a thing 'the heart', but vampires address it as 'the core'. The core of my being IS a sun, and the darkness cast upon it was nothing more a minor foreshadow. No darkness can truly drown out my immense light… I also heard something earlier – something about the Archbishop only having 8 minutes to kill my comrades…and my son. Thaddeus, do you really think I'd let you do something like that…WITHOUT RIPPING YOUR FUCKING HEART OUT!"_

Grandpa Frederic creates a powerful blanket of airstreams at his feet, and bounds from a powerful sonic boom! With blinding speed, my Great-grandfather blasts his right fist into Thaddeus's jaw, knocking the Dietrich out cold with one strike! The corrupted Archbishop is _rocketed_ away, flying in his master's direction with violent forthcoming… Count Valdo holds his right hand forward and creates a case of darkness around his servant's body. The case ceases Thaddeus's flight, and gently lays him upon the cold, hard ground.

"Impressive, traitor", the Lord of the Night calms his projection of darkness by closing his hand. Count Valdo walks forward towards his rebellious family member, smiling upon his image from underneath his hood. "I must congratulate you on finding a new power… However, I regret to inform you that it's _nothing_ compared to my own. Time and time again we've gone through the motions, you and I. You defy your destiny continuously, knowing well that _you_ should be the one ruling the night… Tell me, how much longer must your dear old uncle wait for you to open your eyes?"

"You're no uncle of mine, Valdo", snarls the offended Protagonist, before his Great-uncle comes to a halt

"Really? Just because you rearranged the letters of your surname, you think you can _disown_ me? How rude of you, Frederic. And to think, you were always my _favorite_ nephew."

"Favorite nephew?" my ancestor outrages. His voice echoes throughout the skies of Rutherford. Grandpa Frederic balls his fists with uprising anger. "You call the child you beat with your bare FISTS…YOUR FAVORITE NEPHEW? How _dare_ you say that to me… I grew up _fearing_ you, crying whenever you came a single step closer to me! I _never_ loved you…because I _knew_ that you didn't love me back… You deserve no lesser than _the_ _darkest_ _hell_ in your demise. You deserve to _suffer_ for all that you've done! You took thousands of people from their homes, broke civilizations in half, and marketed human body parts; not to mention stealing a woman's husband and turning him into…that THING laying on the ground… I give you one chance to get out of my face, Valdo. If you don't leave…you…will…DIE!"

The Legendary Protagonist gazes at his Great-uncle with burning, enraged eyes! The pulsation of his Great-nephew's existence presses against the Master Vampire's body… Count Valdo feels the Pureblood's power, and is rather impressed by its spectral fortitude.

"My, my, my. It seems as if my nephew's become 'the big man' now. Perhaps I should run away."

"That's the best option for you, old man", snarls the burning-eyed Pureblood.

"Ha! I haven't felt a power this strong since… Well, never really… Fine, have it your way, nephew. I concede to your demands. Just give me my son, and I'll be on my way."

"You're not leaving with that innocent young man", declines the Pureblood. His Great-uncle lowers his head, hiding the remainder of his hooded face in the darkness of his garments. "You can lower your head looking all grim as much as you want to. I'm not letting you take Jonathan…"

"His name is 'Johannes', not Jonathan", corrects the Lord of the Night. Count Valdo relieves himself of his hood, revealing his fine head of curly hair… Grandpa Christopher, the Twins, and the Methuselahs are shocked to see his true image. "Frederic, you should know better than anyone else…that I _detest_ when something precious is kept from me. If I have to go through you to get to my son, I'll do just that… Or, perhaps he'll come to me."

"Come to you? That boy doesn't even like you, let alone want to be around you."

"Hoh…? Then, what do you call _that_ standing behind you?" the Lord of the Night lifts his head up and looks upon a distant image. Everyone turns around… They're shocked to see a ghastly sight: _Brother Johnny in his Pureblood Kyonshī form!_ Eyes, spiked hair, bone protrusions, bodily insignias on the lining of his frame…all made of impenetrable glass. His body's surrounded by a frightening aura, and his arms are stretched outward like a soul-searching cadaver. Count Valdo opens his arms with love. "Johannes, my only son…come to your father."

"Otō…san (Fa…ther)…" whines the mindless Kyonshī, before leaping forward into the air.

Everyone watches the great flight of a Pureblood Kyonshī… Brother Johnny lands firmly on his feet in front of his father, and hops forward into the Count's embrace. For the first time, Valdo sheds tears… He's never cried in his entire life, but now… Now, he has a reason to be happy. Still, his affections aren't without the most _twisted_ touch of evil. A being of darkness, when all is said and done, is nothing more than that – a creature without heart or soul, void of the light's embrace.

"Otō…san (Fa…ther)?" whines the mindless hopping vampire.

"Johannes…Papa's happy to have you in his arms."

("Is that really…Johnny?") mentally questions the stunned Cyber-technologist.

In truth, that IS Brother Johnny physically… Mentally, not so much. His spirit has been corrupted by his father's presence. What the radicals look upon is an incarnation of _evil_. The lovable Strigoi that they've come to adore is now a coldblooded killer… What will become of this fated meeting?

* * *

><p>"So, what do you like to do?" asks the Internet buddy.<p>

"What do I like to do? Well…"

"You know. Your hobbies? Your likes, dislikes? Stuff like that."

"Oh, well…I don't do much besides school and poetry", blushes the bashful Ms. Houston.

"A poetess? Wow! I'm impressed."

"Thanks", she giggles. We've been following the couple through Aldington for the past 10 minutes. Our pursuit has gotten us little to no information. Our acquaintance's rendezvous is much more clever than we expected. Currently, they've taken a seat on a local park bench. Ms. Houston seems to be doing well, but we're not giving up on her that easily. "So, what stuff do you like to do? I remember you saying that you like photography, but that's all I really know."

"Well, I collect knives."

"Knives? That's kind of…creepy."

"That's what you get when your dad's an old war veteran. It's not as bad as one would think. If anything, I always have a good set of cutting utensils, so it's not all that creepy to me."

"Did you ever cut yourself?" smiles the curious townswoman.

"Once. It was an accident."

"I would hope so. Some people cut themselves to relieve stress."

"I'm not one of those people", smiles the Internet buddy.

"So, where do you come from?"

"Van Halen, the Industrial District. I live in a small suburb near the Wilson Theater."

"You're from that place where there's a lot of operas?" fascinates the townswoman.

"Yeah, nothing special. I hear the Theater's closed down. Infinity's got it blocked until the investigation with the Beach Boys is over with. DNA samples and stuff like that."

"Those Infinity-people are pretty tough. I hear they're…vampires."

"They are. Every single last one of them is some kind of vampire or super-awesome human."

"I wish I was as cool as they are", fantasizes the beautiful townswoman. She suddenly remembers something pretty interesting that happened today. "Oh, would you believe me if I told you that I met some celebrities today?"

"Celebrities? How popular are we talking here?"

"Oh, nothing much…just a few wrestlers and a manger from the WWE."

"Really…?" fascinates the Internet buddy.

"Yep. Wade Barrett and Mr. Cross, Natalya, Tyson Kidd, Sheamus, Jinder Mahal, and John Morrison. My little brother and I are going to hang out with them later. Want to come?"

"Would I? I love the WWE!"

"Me too", giggles the beautiful townswoman.

Everything seems…a bit _too_ normal between those two. Just a few minutes ago, the Internet buddy excused his party from the restaurant in a suspicious manner. His character's rather obscure… I don't trust this kid, and I'm not calling off my team until I'm fully secure about Ms. Houston's safety.

"Hey, want to go for a little walk?" asks the Internet buddy.

"Okay."

They stand and begin walking towards the east, "So, what's your real name? I only known you as 'Manson_Baby Girl09'. My name's 'Creed' by the way."

His revealed name sparks our attention… "Creed". That's a rather odd name for such a wholesome young man. I've no idea of the origins of such a name. My team takes flight upon airstreams, having run out of buildings to climb. I suddenly notice that Creed's looking over his shoulder at us… So, he really _does_ know that we're following him. That just makes my suspicions all the more concrete.

Just as Stephen predicted, this boy's not human…he's a vampire. To sense our presence means that he has some manner of existence inside of him. As to what his power could be… Well, we're not informed of that as of yet. We'll have to continue tailing Ms. Houston and this "Creed-fellow" to find that out.

Ms. Houston notices her date behaving suspiciously, "What're you looking at?"

"Nothing. Just some birds flying in the sky."

"Eww! Birds in Aldington look like they've been swimming in toxic waste!" laughs the young townswoman. Creed laughs with her, finding her personality to be quite charming. "I used to have a pet cockatoo named 'Sammy'. But, he flew away and I haven't heard from him since."

"Really? That's sad… I used to have a pet."

"What kind?"

"A dog."

"Ooh, what breed?" fascinates the gullible townswoman.

"German Shepherd. His name was 'Eon'."

"Eon?" giggles the townswoman.

"Yeah – because he acted like an old man all the time."

"That sounds like one funny pooch", laughs the townswoman. "Where is he now? Back home?"

"No…he's dead."

"Oh…I'm sorry", Ms. Houston apologizes.

"It's all right. I live alone. I'm all right with that too."

"You…don't have any family?"

"I did… They're dead too."

"Creed…how do you survive on your own?" asks the townswoman, as they approach an abandoned part of the darkened park. The Internet buddy refuses to answer his date. Ms. Houston stops walking… Creed comes to a halt, turns on his heel and smiles at the beautiful townswoman. Ms. Houston becomes antsy. "Creed… Why aren't you answering me? Are you…hiding something?"

"Maybe… Or, maybe it's _more_ than just one thing."

"What? More than one thing?"

"You're really naïve, Whitney", laughs the Internet buddy, before a pool of blood spreads from his feet. Ms. Houston covers her mouth in shock, backing away from the terrifying image. The blood at Creed's feet excites, and becomes a mountainous geyser. Creed speaks…but with a totally different tone of voice. "Didn't your parents ever teach you not to trust people you meet over the Internet 100%? Teenagers are _all_ the same – overemotional juvenile fools who lack common sense. Allow me to show you _why_ you should've just stayed home."

The geyser of blood calms, and rains upon the image of none other than… The Moonwalker! Mr. Houston screams, and runs away from the notorious serial killer! However, she accidentally runs into a tall, strong body frame. She stops, and looks up to me – her acquaintance and new friend.

"Mr. Barrett, save me!" the young girl clings to me in overwhelming fear.

_"Calm down, Whit. We won't let him hurt you, I promise you that."_

"We…?" Whitney opens her eyes and notices my fiancé to my left and Stephen to my right. The townswoman delights, seeing a small group has come to her rescue. "Mr. Cross, Sheamus, you're here too?"

"Glad to see you again, lassie", winks the Irish nightwalker.

"Ditto, cutie-pie", seconds my adoring lover.

"My, three Infinity agents have come to the rescue", The Moonwalker's arrogant verse grasps our attention. Ms. Houston looks to the serial killer with confused eyes. The Moonwalker smiles upon her youthful ignorance. "Heh-heh-heh! What, they didn't tell you? Those emblems on their clothes are the symbol of the Infinity radicals: _the Goldener Phönixkreuz (Golden Phoenix Cross)_. That shows how much you know about your 'new celebrity buddies', Whitney."

"Mr. Barrett is…" Whitney looks up to me in a mixture of confusion and awe. "…You're an Infinity agent? All of you work for those vampire-people?"

"Nightwalkers if you will, Ms. Houston", I look down to her with a smile. "The word 'vampire' is rather outdated, don't you think? Not all of us feast upon the blood of the living. Some actually marry humans, creating half-breeds like me. I'm not really human, Ms. Houston. I'm a dhampir: _a cross between a pureblood man and a human woman…_ So, now you know the truth about us. Do you _still_ wish to be our friend, little miss?"

"I do", the frightened yet relieved townswoman clings to me. Ms. Houston begins to cry, and I hold her to give the young lady a little comfort. "I won't give up on you because you're different. That's not how I am. Wade, Mr. Cross, Sheamus…I want my brother to meet you, and I want us to be friends. Friends…forever."

"That means a lot, Whit. Let me go now, dear. We've got a coldhearted scoundrel to arrest."

"Yes, sir", Ms. Houston releases me.

Damien, Stephen and I step forward and confront the notorious nightwalker. The Moonwalker, intimidating and strong of stature, stands with unwavering confidence. I exercise my rights as an Infinity agent, and attempt to first arrest the criminal peacefully.

"Well now, you seem to be having quite the riveting evening", my informal attitude brings a cocky grin to the killer's face. I continue my questionnaire, pulling out a set of handcuffs from my back pocket. "Is playing with the emotions of innocent children a hobby of yours? Or is that just one of many?"

"The latter, actually. I find enjoyment in the suffering of others."

"My, aren't you the pathetic one", Damien smiles, humored by the criminal's obscure personality.

"Pathetic, you say? 'Pathetic' is fighting a losing battle. You Infinity-idiots are defying the Count; a grave move on your part. I, on the other hand, am _powerful_ enough to kill the Count on my own. What could a fledgling half-breed, a half-eater, and an old fossil do to stop an all-powerful vampire lord…except run and hide?"

"Plenty of things, fella", answers the confident Earth Master, summoning Green Day's trademark brambles upon his right hand. "For one, we're going to kick your arse into next year before we detain ya. After shutting your yap, we'll drag you to Kate and have you transported to headquarters. Now, you can shut up and take your beating like a man, or struggle and get near-fatal wounds planted into your body. Emphasis on the word 'planted'… Know what I mean, fella?"

Damien summons his scythe of Crimson Matter into his right hand… I surround myself with a light glow of my existence's sunlight. Ms. Houston marvels at our display of supernatural muscle.

_"Whoa! You've got powers, too?"_

"Aye, comes with being a vampire", smiles the proud Irishman.

"Oooh, I want to be a vampire too!" bounces the excited townswoman.

_"Sorry to burst your bubble, lassie… But, being a vampire's not the most exciting thing."_

"Huh? Why not?"

"Because you live forever", explains The Moonwalker. Ms. Houston pays attention to what the serial killer has to say to her. "Vampires never die. We can be killed a second time, but it's not an easy thing to pull off. Even when we die, a body without a soul…_is doomed to roam limbo for all eternity._ We live lonely lives; a nightmare of misery and anguish, cursed by an unquenchable desire for blood. We have some pretty impressive powers, this is true… But, at what cost? We see our mortal friends and loved ones die before our eyes. In some cases, such as my own, these lives are taken by us – the vampire connected to them. If we _do_ find love, it's rare… Having been robbed of many of our emotions, love's the _hardest_ thing for vampires to find. Whitney, do you _really_ want to become a vampire…after finding out the truth about us?"

Ms. Houston holds her heart, saddened by the serial killer's confession. Stephen places his left hand on the young lady's head, and pets her gently. Ms. Houston looks into the Irishman's handsome green eyes. The young townswoman blushes, and lowers her head.

"You didn't have to hurt the lassie's feelings", Stephen looks to the serial killer with daunting eyes.

"I did? My apologies, Master of the Green Day Briars. I didn't know life lessons were supposed to be told as fairytales. Perhaps I wouldn't have to hear your mouth if I included 'a magical pony'. Or, how about 'a yellow-brick road'? Does that sound better?"

"I'm not kidding, fella. This is a little girl, a kid. You play with her emotions, then you scare her, and you have the _audacity_ to make her cry afterwards? I may not be a babysitter or a cute little school teacher, but I know that picking with pups ain't what a _real_ man does. You've just brought yourself a one-way ticket to _'Ass-whip City'_."

Damien whacks Stephen on the head with the flat end of his sickle!

"YOWCH!" shrieks the Earth Master, holding his crown in a world of pain. The angered Irishman bucks up to my boy in a fit. "Now what was THAT for, ya little runt?"

"Watch your mouth in front of children, Stevie!" scolds the stern Half-eater.

"What? She's 16, for crying out loud!"

"She's still a _child_, you nitwit."

"The lassie ain't no child! She's practically an adult!"

"Enough already!" I shout, scolding my team members for behaving so immaturely. Damien and Stephen cease their silly little spat. After taking a breath of relief, I proceed forward with my exposed handcuffs. "We haven't the time to be arguing like children. Moonwalker, I'm taking you in. Come quietly and no one will get hurt. Otherwise, we'll have to get rough and make short work of you."

I handcuff the serial killer… However, he proves the elusive power of his existence. The handcuffs liquefy into red plasma, and fall into the pool of blood at his feet. The crafty nightwalker excites his pool of blood as a cannon blast. The wave of lifeblood's strong enough to push me away, but that's all it does.

_Wow…is that really it?_

"That's all you've got, Moonwalker? I was expecting something a little more…impressive."

"You're such a fool", laughs the veiled criminal.

"What are you going on about?"

"The nature of my existence…" the serial killer stops laughing, and smiles confidently. "…Blood on the Dance Floor is 'an existence of life', not just empathy. However, unlike most existences of life, Blood on the Dance Floor doesn't _give_ life… It _takes_ life. Right now, the blood I sprayed on you is creeping through your pores. Pretty soon, it will reach your internal organs…_and melt you from the inside out!_"

"Hmph. That'd be a rather ingenious plan, if it weren't destined for failure."

_"What…?" snarls the serial killer._

"Blood flow increases when it becomes warmer. As a sun existence user, I'm well aware of the dangers of Blood on the Dance Floor. Poisoning me from the inside out… Well, that's nothing. Allow me to show you something…rather scary in nature."

"Something…scary?" questions the criminal, before he feels a strong power surge from my existence.

My aura of sunlight becomes crimson red… The Moonwalker is _stunned_ by my display of spectral power. Damien, Stephen and Ms. Houston marvel at what's become of my energy composition. This is actually something rather new that I've invented off of the top of my head. I can only describe this ability as "synchronization", for that's what I've done to Blood on the Dance Floor's toxic plasma and my existence of the sun.

"Behold, Moonwalker, the fusion of your Blood on the Dance Floor _and_ my Paradise City. I thank you for this small increase of power. Now, I feel a little stronger than before. Footballers have their energy drinks…and I have you. My oh my, how _lucky_ I am to have run into you."

"You fused my toxins with your existence?" gasps the serial killer. "Impossible! No vampire's _ever_ done something like that… How can you access such a level of power?"

"I haven't a clever comeback for that question. So, I'll have to answer with 'I've just got it like that'."

"Ah, Mr. Barrett's so awesome!" excites the bouncy townswoman.

"And that's why I'm marrying him", seconds my loving fiancé.

"Stop thinking about his pipe, Day-Day", sarcastically rebukes the sardonic Irishman.

_"Excuse me? I wasn't thinking about his 'pipe', you senile old corpse!"_

"Up and down, up and down, all around", Stephen teases.

"Remind me to put _garlic_ in your next meal. Jerk!"

"Not in front of the lassie. We'll save _that_ for later."

"How dare you, you pervert!" Stephen laughs at Damien's anger. Ms. Houston laughs under her breath at how dysfunctional her friends are. Damien whacks his brother figure on the head with the flat end of his scythe. Stephen wails in a world of pain. "Take _that_, you flame-haired ruffian!"

"YOWCH! Enough with the sickle to the head bid! You're giving me a migraine, ya little runt!"

"Yeah, don't break a hip while you're at it, Gramps!"

"Gramps? You're asking for it, Day-Day!"

"Ooh, the walking _peppermint_ wants to touch me now", arrogantly teases my fiancé.

"Peppermint? At least I don't look like a glamorized Hershey bar!"

"That's enough!" I yell, scolding my teammates for continuing their immature antics.

"Sorry", they apologize.

The Moonwalker giggles at our dysfunctional behavior. Ms. Houston shudders at the sound of the serial killer's wicked laughter. My teammates and I brace ourselves for any hostility. The pool of blood at the criminal's feet excites, forming a spiraling updraft around his body.

"You're quite the entertaining bunch", The Moonwalker points his left index finger forward, unleashing a massive wave of plasma upon our party. The mass of spectral lifeblood covers my team, flooding us with a 15-foot high prison of death. Ms. Houston screams in tears, believing us to be dead. The serial killer laughs at our failure to react. "Hee-hee-hee! Too bad your comedy act's been canceled. Rest in peace, Infinity brats…"

All of a sudden, the mass of lifeblood surrounding my team begins to boil… Ms. Houston stops crying, wondering what could be happening. And then, something odd forms at the head of the prison of blood: _a large, blossoming rosebud_. The blooming rosebud absorbs the pool of blood in less than 5 seconds.

Ms. Houston and The Moonwalker are shocked to see the origins of the blood-absorbing flower… Stephen's existence of earth, Green Day, has sprouted the flower from its brambles. Also, Damien and I have supplied an energy shield by fusing our existences into one body. Our ingenious technique has greatly angered the murderous nightwalker.

_"You… What the hell are you?"_

"We're…amused", Damien smiles.

_"Amused? How dare you insult me, you impertinent Half-eater!"_

"Man, you sure know how to run your mouth", Stephen's large rosebud finally reaches full bloom. The Moonwalker notices something strange forming from the exposed plant's petals: _small sparks of emerald energy._ Ms. Houston marvels at the lustrous beauty of the Irishman's spectral power. "Hey, Moonwalker. Don't stare _too_ hard, or your peepers will fall out."

The serial killer looks into the Irishman's fierce green eyes… Damien and I calm our existences, retreating our energy shield in the process. The Moonwalker prepares another surge of lifeblood from the pool at his feet.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, fella", Stephen warns.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You keep tossing blood, my rose becomes more powerful. If it gets enough juice, it'll disintegrate your entire body. It'd be pretty crappy if you died because you're too damn _stubborn_ to give up."

"Don't try to intimidate me!" the coldhearted criminal unleashes another wave of lifeblood from his existence. Stephen concentrates Green Day's sprouted flower, causing its petals to instantly absorb the tidal wave of death into its roots… The Moonwalker's psyched by his enemy's spectral muscle. "What the devil is that…? That's no ordinary garden flower…is it?"

"No, it's not. My existence not only rots things, it absorbs blood and _several_ forms of spectral energy. This spell just so happens to be my favorite. The consumption of an opponent's energy, which gives me a large boost of spiritual power. I call it '_Deadhead'_."

_"Deadhead…?" shudders the serial killer._

"You bet, fella. Deadhead's a spell that feasts on the ignorance of 'headstrong' warriors. I save this attack for moments like this: _when I'm dealing with a complete idiot_. So, since you were _dumb_ enough to keep attacking…_I'm going to exercise my right to use deadly force_."

"No…no, don't!" panics the serial killer.

**_"Say 'goodnight'! Deadhead!"_**_ the Earth Master unleashes his technique upon his opponent!_

The large rose's petals storm from Green Day's brambles, trailing emerald energy sparks within its path of destruction! The floral storm crashes into The Moonwalker's fear-frozen body, and paralyzes him from the neck down… Ms. Houston marvels at the sight of Stephen's uncanny technique.

The Moonwalker collapses to the ground, as the Earth Master's attack wave comes to an end.

"Im…possible…" the serial killer's unable to move an inch from where he lays. My team deactivates our existences, and approaches the fallen criminal for detainment. The Moonwalker smites us with harsh words. "…Damn you to hell! Pulling something dirty like that… _I'll have your head for this, you insipid Infinity brats!_"

"Until then, you're under arrest", Stephen and I force the notorious nightwalker to his feet. Damien places handcuffs on the serial killer's wrists. I congratulate my team on a job well done. "Good show, boys. I'm pretty sure Nattie would be proud."

The Moonwalker laughs at us. Ms. Houston backs away, intimidated by the nightwalker's hysterical act… And then, the criminal liquefies into a pool of blood. He slithers away, attempting to escape from the scene! Damien unleashes a volt of Crimson Matter from his right hand, chasing the criminal down… Damien's volt crashes into the pool of blood, forcing the criminal to revert to his original form!

_"AAH…!" shivers the serial killer in a world of pain._

"You can't escape", smiles my carefree fiancé, as The Moonwalker collapses to the ground.

All of a sudden, a large mass of Dark Matter rains from the skies above, and crashes into the Moonwalker's injured body! Ms. Houston runs to us, and hides in my arms as the Dark Matter trails a shockwave of pavement and dust… The quake comes to an end, and the cloud of dust covering the fallen criminal subsides. My party's shocked to see the epic forthcoming…_of the King of Rutherford!_

We look down to see what's become of The Moonwalker…

…His body's been burned to a cinder, reducing him to nothing more than _a smoking corpse of Dark Matter!_ We're stunned by the short work the King's made of the serial killer… King Henry walks forward, chest-out like the big man he's known to be. His body seethes with the essence of his existence of darkness.

"Mr. Barrett…" Ms. Houston clings to me in fear.

_"Stay calm now, Whit. You'll be all right."_

"What are you doing here, Henry?" questions the protective Earth Master.

"I've come to ask a favor of you", answers the King, as he comes to a halt before us.

"A favor? What are you selling, old timer?"

"A request for Mr. Bennett. Nothing more, nothing less."

I arch my eyebrow at the hooded Noble, wondering what he could want from me. King Henry relieves himself of his hood, and shows me his true face… Ms. Houston and I are stunned to see the face of "the Heir of the Million-Dollar Man". Damien and Stephen aren't surprised at all, having met him in the past.

_"Ted…is that you…?" I question in a mode of shock._

"Theodore DiBiase is only a _façade_ I created using my existence. My real name is 'Henry Tudor VIII': _the most renown member of the House of Tudor…_ And, hopefully, an _ex-member_ of the Church of the Red Moon."

"What are you going on about, old timer?" Stephen questions.

"My business is with Mr. Bennett, Paddington. Hold your tongue for a second."

_"Why should I?"_

"Stephen, please", my simple command silences my comrade. I look to the King to hear his request. "You may speak when you wish, King Henry."

"Thank you, Mr. Bennett", the Aristocrat places his hands behind his back. King Henry extends his request to me with sincerity in his voice. "As you know, I'm one of the Patriarchs of the Church. I've secured my role by acting as a power-player for the Count. However, in the past few decades, my heart's led me in a completely different direction."

"A change of heart, eh? What made you go turncoat all of a sudden?"

"The Former Pope of the Church, Leonard de Bleus", confesses the Aristocrat. Our comrades approach in the distance, grasping the King's attention with every step… Natalie and her radicals stand at our side. Ms. Houston marvels at their presence. King Henry acknowledges his ex-wife. "Lady Katherine McArthur – a beauty beyond beauties. Truly the most elegant woman this side of the globe."

"What have you done, Henry?" sternly questions the Head Mother.

"Nothing, really. I just made your job ten-times more easy and killed The Moonwalker for you. Courtesy of Castle Rutherford, of course."

"That's an _unlawful_ act, Henry! I should place your ass behind bars for that!"

"Was it now?" giggles the King of Rutherford. "My mistake. I apologize. To be honest with you, I grew tired of this scoundrel killing my innocent Gideonites. He had to go. Sorry if I've ruined your little investigation."

"About that request, Mr. Tudor", I grasp the King's attention with stern tone. "Out with it. Give me a reason not to arrest you right here and now?"

"As you wish", King Henry approaches my party. He walks directly up to me and extends his right hand. We don't know how to take this gesture, especially me. And then, that's when the question of a lifetime was asked. "I wish to engage in battle with you – the _strongest_ member of Katherine's forces. If you can defeat me in mortal combat, I will _gladly_ switch sides and join your cause. I'm not doing this for myself…but for Leonard."

_"Are you…in love with him?"_

"…Yes…I am", confesses the King, shocking his ex-wife. He lowers his head, feeling the pain of being separated from the one he loves. "I love Leonard with _all_ that I am. I'm sure you should know how that feels, being involved with a delicate little flower like Mr. Crosse."

"I can sympathize. But why have you chosen _me_ out of everyone else?"

"Because I feel a connection to your spirit", King Henry looks to me with an ocean of pain waiting to pour from his eyes. "I want _you_ to be the one who will bring me to my love. Right now, Mr. Bennett, you're a savior in my eyes… No, you're more like an angel. A rough one with a short temper, but an angel nonetheless."

"I'm touched", I smile.

"If you give me this one fight, I'll be in debt to you for all eternity… Please, Mr. Bennett, accept my offer. If not for me, do it for Leonard…and for the sake of the races."

It's a tough egg to swallow, but I won't be the one to break Leonard's heart. I've heard news of his withdrawal from the Church, so I know he's currently with us. I release Ms. Houston from my embrace.

"Whit, I want you to join the others for a while", I demand with calming verse.

"But, Mr. Barrett…"

"I'll be fine, Whit. I need to answer the plight of an aching heart."

"Don't worry, lassie", Stephen extends his right hand to the young townswoman. Ms. Houston looks the Earth Master with innocent eyes, gazing into his warm smile. "Come with us. You don't need to see what's about to happen anyway. It's won't be a pretty picture, and we don't want kids being mentally scarred by our actions. So, will you join us at the Resort? Maybe we can pick your little brother up on the way."

"Um…okay", Ms. Houston takes the Irishman's hand and follows my group away from the scene.

"Stu…"

"What is it, Steve?"

"Don't die on us."

"I don't plan on it."

"You better not", Stephen smiles.

My group of friends departs from my confrontation with the King. I shake Henry's hand, showing understanding towards his romantic resolve. We release each other's hands, and make ground between each other by stepping back three times. The King balls his fists, standing in boxing position.

"Mr. Bennett, I must warn you…"

"What is it, Mr. Tudor?"

_"…If you go easy on me, I'll make you pay for it."_

I stand in bareknuckle position, ready to engage in mortal combat, "Have it your wave, old man. If you want me to deliver you to Leonard so badly…then I won't disappoint you."

"Thank you…Mr. Bennett."

"Don't mention it", I concentrate my existence, creating a shell of sunlight on my frame. With epic tone, I activate my territory. **_"Expand! Paradise City!"_**

A golden territory extends from my aura of sunlight!

**_"Pitch black! Dark Side Moon!"_** the King activates his existence, spreading a territory of darkness from his daunting frame. Our combined spectral muscle becomes a dense blackness… However, my body fills this void of nothingness with a strong glow of sunlight. King Henry smiles, impressed by the nature of my power. "The infamous existence of the sun that killed Father Christian: _Paradise City, an SSS Class tool of destruction._ I must say that I'm _thrilled_ to see it with my own eyes."

"I'm touched once again. It's rather flattering, knowing that my power got your juices running. If you think _this_ is a spectacle, wait until the _real_ action begins. I hope you don't wet your pants in the process."

"Don't mock me, Mr. Bennett", the King summons a sphere of Dark Matter into his right palm. I brace myself for the first attack. Since this was a personal request from the King, it's more than honorable to let _him_ throw the first punch. King Henry aims his energized palm at my distant frame. "Please, let's make this battle…the _grandest_ of all."

"As you wish, Mr. Tudor."

Standing face-to-face with my strongest opponent to date, I can _feel_ the difference of power… The King's _much_ stronger than I am. I'm not so sure if I can stand up to a man of such supernatural authority. However, I don't have much of a choice in the matter.

_Henry wants to be with Leonard. Even if this battle ends with my death…I'll bring Henry back to Leonard's arms, one way or another._

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back at Infinity HQ, Father Andrew, Uncle Alexander, Grandpa Christopher, Mother Wendy, the Ex-Clergymen, the Twins, and the Methuselahs are face-to-face with the Lord of the Night. Standing before the Count is his long-lost son: the Pureblood Kyonshī, Brother Jonathan Curtis… Or should I say "Lord Johannes von Dracula"? The radicals remain strong in the face of their archenemy… Count Valdo holds his son with loving arms.<p>

"Johannes, my boy…let's go home. Just you and me."

"Otō…san", whines the mindless Kyonshī.

"Wait a second…" Mother Wendy steps forward, offended by what the Master Vampire's neglectful verse. Count Valdo looks to the angered Abbess with furious eyes. "You can give me that look all you want… After all of this, you're just throwing Thaddeus away? Is it _that_ simple for you to toss someone aside? What…because he got punched in the face, he's no longer of any use to you? Answer me!"

"Look at your husband, woman", Mother Wendy comes to a halt and does as the Master Vampire says… Everyone's shocked to see what's happened to the Archbishop: _his skin's back to normal, and the surge of darkness that covered his spirit is no more_. "It appears as if the mana packed into Frederic's punch has somehow _purified_ Thaddeus of my curse. If I took him back now, he'd be nothing but trouble for me. Rest assured, I'll come back for him _soon_…but not today. For now, I only want to be with my son. That IS a father's greatest desire after all. Am I right or am I right?"

"Like I said before, Valdo…" Grandpa Frederic steps forward, standing at the Mother Superior's left side. The Lord of the Night focuses his attention on his Great-nephew. "…We're not letting you take that boy. He's not himself right now, and he needs people who'll teach him kindness and purity. _Not_ malice and death."

"Is that so, nephew?" giggles the humored Master Vampire. Count Valdo releases his son, allowing him to move freely. Brother Johnny hops in a circle, lands on his feet and looks upon the image of his assortment of friends. The Lord of the Night asks his son a simple question. "Johannes, tell your cousins and your friends who you wish to be with? Is it me…or is it them? Speak up now, son."

"Boku… (I…)…" the Pureblood Kyonshī sheds a glassy tear, succumbing to his jaded feelings. Count Valdo walks to his son's side, and places his right arm around Brother Johnny's shoulders… _A strong surge of darkness flows through the Pureblood Kyonshī's body!_ The hopping vampire's glassy eyes gain a fleeting black hue, and he subsequently flashes his glassy fangs. "…Boku wa Otōsan to ni naritai (…I want to be with dad)!"

"That's my little Glassy Face", Count Valdo pats his son on the back.

"You coward!" roars the Crusnik Lord. "You filled him with darkness to play with his emotions? What kind of father are you, you sick son-of-a-bitch?"

"Silence yourself, Alexander", the Master Vampire looks to the radicals with a warm smile. He hoods himself, hiding his face from his enemies. "I only came for my son. You ruffians came with a fight in mind. I shall inform you now that I _won't_ forget this. If you wish to see my son, you can find him at my chateau in Moldavia. If you come there, however…_you will all DIE a second time_. And I don't think _any_ of you would want that."

"Otōsan, boku wa ie ni kaeritai (Father, I want to go home)", whines the Pureblood Kyonshī.

_"As you wish…son."_

A case of darkness surrounds the little family, transferring them into the backseat of the Count's limousine. The chauffer bows to the radicals, before stepping into the driver's seat. The opened doors close, and the engine starts… Grandpa Frederic runs forward, attempting to attack the limousine with his bare hands. The Count concentrates his existence, creating a transparent field of darkness in front of the Protagonist's body. Grandpa Frederic's _repulsed_ by the field of darkness, and is forced to the ground!

"Dad, are you all right?" his son and his band of friends runs to his side. Grandpa Christopher helps his father sit up, as the limousine drives off into the distance. Everyone watches the Count's departure, knowing well that they're powerless to stop him. Grandpa Christopher looks back at the Archbishop's unconscious body with concern. "What…do we do about him?"

"T.A.T.U.'s not operational right now", answers Father Andrew.

_"Not operational? I didn't see any Crimson Matter in the air."_

"You can't see something that's _invisible_, lad."

"What are you talking about?" questions the Crusnik Lord.

"You remember when you saw that 'territorial pulsation' from Fred's eyes?" everyone retracts their memory, remembering what happened when Grandpa Fredric unleashed a pulsation of his existence. Father Andrew explains the situation with a confident smile. "That _wasn't_ Frederic's power. That was T.A.T.U.'s explosion of 'saturated Crimson Matter'. It appeared as a surge of air to confuse people. The truth is: you kiddos didn't feel a thing pass through you, because I programmed T.A.T.U. to attack enemies, not allies. Valdo doesn't realize it…_but I just successfully cut his power in half_… At the expense of my 'baby', of course."

The Methuselahs are pained to hear that their sister's sacrificed herself to save everyone… T.A.T.U. wasn't even a year old, and yet she valiantly displayed the brilliance of Father Andrew's cyber-technology. With the defense system's last act of love, the Count's power has been halved… We now have a 50% chance of obtaining victory against the Lord of the Night… But at what cost?

"Well, you seem like a depressing lot", a familiar voice grasps the attention of the radicals. Everyone turns around to see a rather shocking sight: Father Jorge and Sister Mary Victoria's left their chambers. The beautiful Vestal waves to the band with a smile. "Good evening, everyone. How was your meeting with the Count?"

"What are you two doing out of your house?" reprimands the Cyber-technologist. "Your release date isn't until tomorrow. Get back to your cells before we change our minds."

"Forgive us, Padre (Father), but we can't do that", the Necromancer steps forward to speak with his future authority figure. Father Jorge stands face-to-face with the Cyber-technologist. "We don't want to leave this place. As you saw for yourself, El Conde (The Count) is a man to be feared. He's unlike any of us, and could finish us off with a single stroke of his power. Not even Señor Federico (Lord Frederic) was a match for him. With the knowledge of we, his former Clergymen, your chances of defeating El Conde will be a full 100%."

_"What do you know about Val that we don't?"_

"Plenty of things, Padre Andréj (Father Andrew)", the Former Cardinal steps forward in the prisoners' defense. Niccolò stands at Father Jorge's side with a proud smile. "Out of all the Clergymen, Jorge and Mary Victoria are the most well-informed about Il Conte (The Count). Do not misjudge their actions. If T.A.T.U.'s been destroyed, then all secured areas have been unlocked. It's only natural that they'd come looking for us."

Niccolò does have a point. With T.A.T.U.'s sacrifice, prisoners are free to roam Infinity HQ as they please. Since they're the only prisoners in Infinity's custody at the moment, the Vestal and the Necromancer felt they were being released early. However, unlike most inmates, they didn't run away… They came to the radicals, hoping to receive an open ear from them. Father Andrew changes his mind.

"Fine. Jo, Vickie, I'll be watching you for the next 22 hrs. If you mess up or do something stupid, I'm putting you back in your cells for another month. Is that understood?"

"Crystal", smiles the beautiful Mary Victoria.

"We'll behave", seconds Father Jorge.

"Uh-huh. We'll see about that."

Mary Victoria looks to Sister Eve with a warm smile. Being the excitable person that she is, the Combat Specialist feels a cold chill run down her spine. Sister Eve smiles and questions the Vestal's attitude.

"Um…why are you smiling at me like that?"

"It's been that long…hasn't it, Eve?"

"Huh?" a blank look forms on the Fem-Methuselah's face.

"I guess I should show you this", Mary Victoria rolls her right sleeve up. Everyone pays attention to the Vestal's actions, waiting for any suspicious actions… The Ex-Clergywoman shows the radicals a scar on her right forearm shaped like a bird's wing. Sister Eve's eyes widen, remembering this kind of marking on sight. Mary Victoria begins explains herself. "When the Church took me in, I wondered if I should use my existence to erase it. Material Girl's secondary power is 'erasure', which means that this scar's subject to disappear… However, I wouldn't dare relieve myself of my lineage…as a Donna."

"A Donna…?" gasps the Combat Specialist.

"Monja (Nun), you're an Amazoness?" seconds the Necromancer.

"Yes, Jorge, I am. When the Donna Tribe was attacked by poachers, I was taken hostage and traded into slavery. At the time, I appeared to be 9, but I was actually over 200-years-old. I kept my childlike state to play with Eve…because she was the only friend I ever had. I loved Eve like a little sister, and I played with her whenever I could. I even changed my name and used my existence to create a family of my own."

Sister Eve's heart feels a strong warmth… She remembers Mary Victoria, or at least the one she knew as a child. Back then, she wasn't named "Mary Victoria", but something else. The Combat Specialist runs to the Vestal's arms, receiving her long-lost friend's embrace. Brother Kevin knows who Mary Victoria is as well. The Marksman steps forward and questions the Vestal out of curiosity.

"Vickie…are you saying that you're…?"

"So, Eve's told you about me has she?" smiles the kindhearted sister.

"Yeah, a little… I just can't remember your name."

"My Donna name is 'LaBelle', and I think I'm going to start using that more often."

"Are you really my big sister?" Sister Eve looks into her friend's eyes, overflowing with emotion.

"Yes, Eve, I am. I've wanted to come back to you, but I had to take care of some things."

"Do you still know how to trill?"

"Oh, that's easy", smiles the Vesta. And then, she sports her Amazon roots and lets out a good, old-fashioned war call. "Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi…YA!"

"Yep, that's a Donna alright", laughs the Cyber-technologist. The radicals are humored by the Vestal's display of Amazon pride. Father Andrew approaches the sisters. He address both inmates with a little more respect than before. "My decision still stands. LaBelle, I want you to catch up with Sister Eve. You two look very close, and it'd be a shame to have you two separated. Jo, hang out with the fellas. You need some friends in your life, old timer. Perhaps my Methuselahs will break you out of that split-personality of yours."

"I'll do my best to blend in", promises the Necromancer.

"Let's turn in for the evening. Nick, Leo, take the Archbishop to the Recovery Ward. I'll be there ASAP."

"As you wish", nods the Former Cardinal. Niccolò and Leonard retrieve Thaddeus's unconscious body. The Cryobiologist looks to the Cyber-technologist for a favor. "Andréj (Andrew), I will talk to you later about my experiment. I believe _Il Neve Pupazzetti (The_ _Snow Puppets)_ will come in handy to our cause."

"Will do, Nick. Everyone, fallout."

The subordinate radicals return to their chambers for the evening. Grandpa Frederic, Mother Wendy, Uncle Alexander, Grandpa Christopher, and Father Andrew proudly observe their juniors' departure. The Abbess takes a big sigh of relief, happy to know that she finally has her husband back. Grandpa Frederic reassures her of Thaddeus's condition with kind verse.

"Your husband will be fine, Wendy. We'll do all that we can to help him."

"Thank you…all of you", smiles the Mother Superior.

"We're more than glad to help, dear."

"How will you go about fixing him? T.A.T.U.'s crashed, has she not?"

"With Nick's cryobiology and my cyber-technology, I'm pretty sure there's something we can do", Father Andrew optimistically declares. "I plan on making Thad a whole new man. Who knows? Maybe you two and renew your wedding vows after all of this."

"I'd like that", Mother Wendy smiles. The Abbess notices my Grandfathers' reunion. Out of respect, the Mother Superior addresses their situation. "So, Fred, how does it feel to have your boy back?"

"It feels pretty damn good actually", Grandpa Frederic places his left arm around his son's shoulders. Grandpa Christopher looks into his father's eyes and smiles. "Chris looks just like his mother. When I'm with him, I feel as if she's still in my presence."

Grandpa Christopher comes up with an idea for a little father/son bonding.

"Hey, Dad?"

"What is it, Chris?"

"Have you ever played football?"

The Legendary Protagonist arches his eyebrow, "Football? Never heard of it."

"Then let your son show you some good, old-fashioned fun", the Half-breed places his hand on his father's back. "Come on, Dad, we're got a lot of catching up to do."

"Sounds good. Let's go."

"Good evening, everyone", Grandpa Christopher wishes, as he parts from his comrades with his father.

"Good evening, loves", wishes the Abbess.

"Wendy, Al, maybe do you think we'll win this fight?" questions the Cyber-technologist.

"I say, I've never heard you speak with such insecurity", snickers the Crusnik Lord.

"We're entitled to our fears. Right?"

"Yes, we are."

"I believe we'll win…in the end", smiles the Abbess. Mother Wendy places her hands on her heart, believing in the power of hope. "With faith… That's how we'll win. I'm sure of it. All we've got to do is believe in ourselves, and each other. At the end of our long road, victory's most definitely waiting for us."

"Good form, Wendy…good form", smiles the Crusnik Lord.

A wind of change breezes across the grounds of Infinity HQ… Two new radicals, friends reunited, a family brought back together, and a rejuvenated marriage. The evening's gone rather well… But, it was at the cost of Brother Johnny, who's currently en route to Moldavia with his father, Count Valdo von Dracula. The carefree Strigoi has become a Pureblood Kyonshī, and now works under his father's influence… So many relationships were rekindled, but this one's the most unfortunate.

_Will we ever get Brother Johnny back?_

* * *

><p>"So, Mr. Bennett…are you ready?"<p>

"…Yes…yes, I am."

"Alright, brace yourself!" the King delivers the first attack, spraying a blinding volley of Dark Matter orbs from his aimed right palm. Using my ability to bend the laws of physics, I rush forward through the storm of power, dodging every orb along the way. King Henry smiles at my inexperience. "Hmph. You've made a serious mistake."

"What are you talking about?" I receive my answer: _a secondary blast of Dark Matter orbs from the King's left hand!_ I hold my forearms in front of me, shielding myself from taking any fatal damage… The orbs of Dark Matter crash into my speeding body, and brutally forces me to the ground! _"AAH…!"_

The King calms his volley and smiles arrogantly, "Useless! You're useless to me when you're like this. Get up now, boy. You've a promise to keep, remember?"

_"P…promise?" I grunt in pain, as I sit up on my rear._

"Yes, you do. You _promised_ to live…for your friends _and_ for your fiancé. It'd be a shame if you lost your life right here, when you're so very _close_ to reaching the Lord of the Night."

"I guess…you're right about that", I smile, struggling to stand to my feet. King Henry's existence packs more of a punch than I originally thought. My forearms are numb from defending against that one attack. I laugh at myself for being so weak. "Hm-hm…ha-ha-ha-ha…A-HA-HA-HA-HA..!"

The King arches his eyebrow in confusion, "What are you laughing at, Mr. Bennett?"

"Look at me…I'm a mess", I cease my laughter and smile. I hold my hands in my line of vision, and look at how fleshy they appear. My weakness has somehow humbled me. "I'm a dhampir… But, in the end, in the bottom of my soul…I'm still nothing more than a human being… About a month ago, I was a normal man who wrestled and competed in booked matches for the WWE. Now, I'm a radical… I'm fighting with new and old friends to stop the Count and his coldhearted Clergymen from taking over the earth. But, after all that I've been through…_this_ is how powerful I've become? Henry, I ask myself: _is there a power beyond the one I have right now?_ I beg God for an answer…but I feel as if _I'm_ the one who should discover that revelation; that it should be my doing, and no one else's. Only…me."

"I admire such character: _a man who finds conviction through his own strengths and weaknesses…_ I've felt that plenty of times; more times than I can remember… We've a lot in common, you and I. Perhaps, if you actually manage to defeat me, we could grab some tea and talk about…_things_."

_"You don't have to worry about me losing, Henry."_

"Hoh…? And why is that?" laughs the humored Aristocrat.

"Because…I _will_ win this fight", my aura of sunlight begins to excite.

My existence's spectral composition takes on another drastic change… My aura of sunlight grows tenfold in composition. My eyes begin shining with a golden glow, as an updraft of my existence storms from my feet! King Henry covers his eyes with his forearms, showing great abhorrence towards my existence's incredible brilliance.

_"Wh-what manner of power is this…?"_

"Henry, you're right…" my voice has become dual-toned, vibrant and powerful. The sun…I can feel its immaculate glow. A new power's being born inside of me. "…I've a promise to keep. A promise to my friends, my fiancé…_and a promise to you_. Henry, I want to see you happy. I want to see _everyone_ happy…including myself. I _never_ wanted to fight you, Henry…I've known you for far _too_ _long_ to ever hurt you. You're a good man at heart, and I see that more and more each time we meet. So, in order to grant us happiness, I will reach into the depths of my soul…and awaken my true form! _My true power!_"

Paradise City's territory overpowers the King's Dark Side Moon! The darkness has become a mass of sunlight… It's a warm, beautiful feeling – the power of the sun and my connection to it. I lift my hands into the air, forming a vibrant supernova remnant in the center of my palms. The words…the sun's giving the words to say… The chant that will unlock my ultimate power!

_"Heed me, thou who is brighter than the stars", I recite, as my aura of sunlight becomes a massive ray of excellence. Henry's prostrated by my existence's radiance, as I continue reciting the words resonating from my shining spirit. "Heed me, thou who graces the planet with vibrant splendor. Shower me with your essence, freeing me of the bonds of this world. I summon the armor of the gods, which graces the earth with eternal light. I beg you, grant me full control of the heavens, to send all the fools before us to eternal rest. Light of the heavens, let us become one!"_

The supernova remnant in the center of my palms excites, causing my aura to begin transforming my physical appearance… The glow shining from my eyes beams brightly, as I unleash the power within!

**_"Now – Paradise Angel, Materialize!"_** an amazing explosion of sunlight occurs, causing the King to close his eyes. A monstrous windstorm emerges from my frame, as I feel something _amazing_ happening to my body… My hair elongates and becomes like that of a spiky golden flame. My shirt is dematerialized, revealing glowing holy insignias upon my upper body. I gain a slight full-body increase in muscle mass…and wings of sunlight emerge from my upper back. Gauntlets of pure gold form on my forearms, and my senses are heightened to levels I've never _dreamed_ they would reach. I open my eyes, and look upon the image of the motionless King Henry. I smile upon his helplessness, walk forward and speak to the unfortunate old soul. "Henry, I've granted your wish. You see me at a power level you've never felt before in your _entire_ life. This form, _the Paradise Angel_, can bring you to the arms of your lover... Are you prepared to lose? Because, if you are…_this is going to hurt a little_."

**_***Image Song: "Invincible" by Pat Benatar***_**

A small supernova remnant forms in the palm of my right hand… Henry holds his hands forward, forming a massive sphere of Dark Matter in front of his body. I come to a halt, rear my right foot back and ball my right fist. I then aim my energized fist at the Aristocrat, preparing for my ultimate technique.

"I…I'm impressed, Mr. Bennett…" admits the humbled Aristocrat. He lowers his head with a humiliated chuckle. "Heh-heh… Now, _I'm_ the one who's pathetic… I must admit though – I'm glad _you're_ the one to place me in this type of situation. This is _my_ strongest technique, my friend. If this doesn't work, I'll take my injuries, allow my healing factor to rejuvenate me…and call it a day."

"Sounds fair enough. I hope you're sure of yourself."

"I am, Mr. Bennett. I'm very, _very_ sure of myself… _Now…attack me!_"

"As you wish, my friend!" the supernova remnant upon my right fist excites, becoming a miniature sun!

"Here we go!" King Henry's sphere of Dark Matter quadruples in size. Our colliding powers stir up a feral windstorm, sending a massive breeze across the streets of Aldington. King Henry unleashes his ultimate technique with passion. **_"Time's Up! Final Living Eclipse…!"_**

His enormous sphere of Dark Matter is cast forward! I take a deep breath, knowing that this's going to take a _lot_ out of me… However, there's no turning back. I close my eyes, allowing the King's attack to crash into my energized fist! King Henry's stunned by my lack of action!

_"What are you doing…? Are you trying to get yourself killed…?"_

"No…I'm not."

_"Then why aren't you moving…?"_

"My spirit…it's speaking to me again…" I open my eyes, hearing the voice of my existence. It's speaking to my heart all over again: _a more powerful version of the 5000-Degrees Sunlight Finger_. I'll keep my power to a minimum, but I've got to do this. I quote the mystic verse of my ultimate technique. "_"Heed me, thou who is brighter than the stars. Heed me, thou who graces the planet with vibrant splendor. In the name of God, who created this glorious kingdom of man…I summon thee, oh mighty eye of the sun. Infuse me with your power, let your strength become mine. Have no pity for the fools who stand in our way. Banish them from the face of the earth; deliver unto them the ultimate doom!"_

Henry's Final Living Eclipse is absorbed into my miniature supernova… The King's eyes widen, having never witnessed something like this before in his entire life! His strongest technique…_has been negated_. Seeing no other options, King Henry holds his arms laterally to his side. He gathers his courage, preparing to take the beating that he's been deserving for hundreds…and _hundreds_ of years. Henry opens his eyes, allowing his bloody tears to taint the ground with a small pool of guilt… With impeccable valiance, he accepts his punishment.

"Go ahead, Stuart…I deserve it. _Do it now!_"

_"As you wish!" I answer the King's desires by unleashing my ultimate technique. Paradise City, please, deliver Henry to Leonard! "Now – **5000-Degrees Sunlight Finger…MAXIMUM!**"_

With those words, I cast my supernova forward towards the King's accepting frame… My attack wave crashes into King Henry, launching him into the air with monumental brilliance! As his body is flung through the air, memories of _all horrible the things_ he's done in the past runs across his mind. In his heart, he's been _waiting_ for someone like me to come along: _someone who's just as strong as the Count… Perhaps…a little stronger_.

I calm my attack wave, allowing the King's body to be freed of its sunlit torture… I take flight with incredible speed, and hold my arms out to the plummeting Aristocrat. He's successfully caught in my embrace, and I use my wings of sunlight to safely lower us to the ground.

Henry opens his eyes, his body slightly seething with white smoke… As I land on my feet, I calm Paradise City and revert back to my original form and attire. I carry King Henry to a local bench, and lay his body down to rest. Unable to move, having endured a massive dosage of ultraviolet rays, I help Henry lay his head in my lap.

The injured Aristocrat looks at me with grateful expression, "Mr. Bennett…thank you."

"Call me 'Stu'. All of my friends do."

"We're…friends?" smiles the King.

"I wouldn't go to all this trouble if you weren't."

"Friends…" King Henry closes his eyes, and slowly passes into unconsciousness. "…I like that. When I wake up, I want to see Leonard's face… Could you do that for me?"

"Yes, my friend. Now, get your rest."

_"Rest…yes…rest…" the King fades into unconsciousness._

I look to my right, feeling the presence of a small group of people… My friends are watching me. Natalie, John, Yuvraj, Stephen, Theodore…and my fiancé, Damien… They're all here.

They approach me…and stand at my side. Everyone's amazed to see the King laying comfortably on my lap. Damien walks up to me and hugs me around my shoulders.

"Stuey, you did it – you defeated the King!" Damien excites.

"Quiet now, love. He's sleeping."

"He is?" everyone looks to the King. Damien speaks for everyone. "What did you actually do to him?"

"…I did what he asked me to do: _open the door to happiness_", I hold my right fist in front of my face, and gaze at its fleshly composition. As I continue to speak, I begin feeling the effects of my new power: _my body's been stricken with a case of lethargy_. "With this new power, I'll bring peace to all living creatures…even to those of the undead. The Paradise Angel: _the ultimate power of the sun_. Valdo, I don't know _where_ you are, or _where_ you've run off to… However, when I finally find you…no…when _we_ finally find you… Your reign of tyranny is officially…_over_… Until then…I need my rest…"

I fall to sleep on the park bench… Natalie places her right hand on my head, petting it softly.

"Congratulations, soldier", she smiles. The Head Mother tosses her keys to her boyfriend. Brother Theodore catches them with his right hand. "Theodore, Paddington, go and fetch the cars for us. We've got a little ways before we make it to Rutherford. When we get there, we'll hold a meeting as to decide our next course of action. Understood?"

"Will do, Kate", Stephen takes flight upon a trajectory of airstreams.

"We'll be right back", Brother Theodore follows his superior in the same manner.

I did it! I've become stronger… I'm suffering for it, but I'm stronger still. However, the dream that I'm seeing…it's beautiful. Picture it: _a world where people live from the tyranny of the Church. A world where the Count's dominion is a thing of the past. Human, vampire, half-breed, eater, kyonshī, strigoi, werewolf, and yoko – all can live in peace, together…happy._ _That is the essence of the Paradise Angel: a bright future, filled with harmony. I will exercise this power, and learn how to master it's incredible might._

As we ride towards Rutherford, my head rests upon my fiancé's lap… Henry rests in the same manner, using his ex-wife as a means of comfort. Ms. Houston's scheduled to enjoy an evening with the Rolling Stones and Father Luis. She understood that we had to leave, but Natalie sent word that we'd be back as soon as possible.

I didn't get the chance to meet up with my cousin… To be honest with you, I think it's best kept that way. Damien's abhorrence to my cousins' behavior is _more_ than obvious. My fiancé pets my head, happy to have me back in his arms. A smile comes to my face…as a vision of our wedding day crosses my mind.

Meanwhile, en route to Moldavia upon his private jet, the Count enjoys the company of his slumbering son. Brother Johnny's back in his normal state, but he's _still_ under the influence of the Master Vampire's dark spell. Bored with his current situation, the Count decides to look out at the starry night skies.

("When they saw my face, they were stunned…") giggles the Lord of the Night in deep thought. He unveils himself once again, allowing the moonlight to decorate his face with a silver glow. ("…They had no _idea_ that I was with them all along, watching their every move. Sure, I've separated myself from everyone, but it was for personal reasons. I attended Damien's award ceremony, and witnessed the _downfall_ of Brother D'Arby. That alone allowed me to realize the _threat_ I was up against. However, under this new moon, I declare a change… I now _shed_ myself of the façade of 'Barri Griffiths', otherwise known as _'Mason Ryan'_. From this day forward, I rid myself of all secrets. I am now an open book… And, with my son at my side…_I will paint the world a bloody shade of red_. So, Infinity-rodents, come at me however you will. For, in the end…_you'll die by my hand!_")

The Master Vampire's sinister laughter echoes into the night skies… With Brother Johnny resting on his head on his father's lap, the entire course of our story has changed. The King's now one of us. The Three Patriarchs are no more… There's only the Count standing against us; however, he's sure to have _more_ allies on his side. A man as charismatic as Count Valdo always has a substitute lying in the background.

When the King and I finally awaken, will the Infinity radicals take him in peacefully?

What will become of Brother Johnny?

Will my new power, _the Paradise Angel_, be enough to finish the Count for good?

Will the world finally see an era of peace?

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme <em>–<em> "Colors" by Utada Hikaru)_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Up Next: Chapter 22 <em>–<em> Ribbon in the Sky)_**


	23. Chapter 22: Ribbon in the Sky

**_BLOOD/Night_**

* * *

><p>I've gained a new power… Paradise Angel: <em>the ultimate incarnation of the sun.<em> Its supernatural muscle and its spectral composition are _immaculate_. To be honest with you, I've known of the existence of angels since I was a child. I was never fortunate enough to actually _see_ one; then again, humans aren't meant to witness such things. The light of an angel is much too vibrant for the human eye to perceive. Mortal creatures are forbidden to observe an angel's true image, thanks to the events of the Garden of Eden… To stare into an angel's light would blind a person, but cleanse them at the same time. Such power is ruled to be "godlike" in the eyes of man… I believe I've gained that specific power: _the ability to heal the mind, body, soul and spirit._

An angel… Mm, yes, that brings me back. Damien and I actually came close to one – an angel in the midst of a moonlit night. I recall the memory in the midst of my slumber, as my party enters through Rutherford's city boundaries. It was an evening unlike any other…for the both of us. This event secured the foundation of our relationship, and strengthened our bond a hundredfold.

_*****Flashback to Manchester, England April 2006…*****_

It was a glorious time of year. Every April, Manchester hosts an annual carnival called "the Festival of Lights". From what my Great-aunt Mildred told me, the Festival was created in 1914 after the original host, Lord Geoffrey W. Leight III, saw an angel bathing in a nearby lake. This Christian-bred festival gathers believers and nonbelievers alike for one week, in honor of Lord Geoffrey's vision of peace. He believed that God wished for his children to love one another, despite their differences. Because of his charitable outlook on life, the Festival is also known as "the Gathering of Hearts".

It was "Couples' Night" when Damien and I went. I thought it best to go on a Wednesday, when young and fresh lovers walked hand-in-hand through the Mary C. Brockert Fairgrounds. Beautiful décor, delicious carnival treats, cold beverages, game booths, rollercoasters, big wheels, merry-go-rounds… I was reliving my childhood with my lover, and I enjoyed every second of it.

"Stuey, this is great!" he delighted, munching away on his cotton candy. "I love carnivals! I'm so very grateful to be here with you, Stuey."

"Likewise, love", Damien leaned against me, and I cradled him in my left arm. At the time, I was a little lightheaded from having ridden the _scariest_ rollercoaster the Festival had to offer –_ the Archangel_. Damien was just fine, but I felt like _I_ just stepped out of a vacuum cleaner. I pinch my left temple, feeling a slight headache coming on. "Oh geez, my head's bothering me now. Damien, remind me to never get on that ride for as long as I live? The Archangel's got me feeling rather dizzy right now."

"Looks like someone's growing 'carnival weary'. Need to have a seat, Stuey?"

"Yes, that sounds good right about now."

"Okay, let's find a private bench. I think a little alone time will do us some good."

"You really know how to spoil me, Sweets", I smiled, delighted by his romantic nature.

Damien noticed a bench located on the eastern side of the Fairgrounds, "That one looks private enough. Let's have a seat there, shall we?"

The bench he picked out is actually the Festival's monument: _the Chair of Blessings_. I giggled, and caught Damien's attention. I laid a kiss on his forehead, and confused the cute little Sugar Face.

"Stuey…what's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, my dear. Just amused that you'd ask me to sit on _THE_ seat."

"Huh? 'The seat'?"

"Damien, if we sit on that bench, we'll be 'blessed' by God."

"Blessed by…God?" Damien looked to the bench with awed expression.

"Yes, blessed by God. This is _'the Chair of Blessings'_. If we sit here, we'll be together forever."

I had a seat on the Chair of Blessings, and placed my left arm across the rim of the bench. Damien sat next to me and snuggled against my strong frame. People shot us looks, but who cares? I was with my boy. That's all that really mattered at the moment. The "public eye" can watch _the crack of my arse_ and get stung by a _fart_ for all I care. That's how it's always been with me – my business is _my_ business, and no one's obligated to like it…_as if I would give a damn if they didn't_. As long as I'm happy with the person that I'm with, vice versa…everything's okay.

"Ah, I feel _blessed_ already", Damien gives me a kiss on my cheek.

"There you go being 'sweet' again", I tickle him on his 'sugar spot', located behind his left ear. Damien's ear wiggled, and made me laugh. "Oi, Damien, did your ear just wiggle?"

"_Yes…because of you tickling it", he giggled._

"Wiggle it again, love", I began tickling his sugar spot repeatedly.

"_Hee-hee-hee! Stop, Stuey, you know what that does to me… Stop it."_

"Let the world see", I playfully growl.

Out of the blue, I saw something shimmering from a nearby bush. At first, I thought it to be nothing more than a streetlight...but then, the light began to wiggle and fade. Damien noticed my spacey expression.

"Stuey, what's wrong?"

"I saw something over there…by that bush", I pointed to the area where the light came from.

Damien looked at the bush, wondering what caught my attention. I stood from the Chair of Blessings, approached the shrub and peered into it. My boyfriend joined me, wondering what I was looking at.

"Stuey…why do you have your head in a bush?" his question made me chuckle. He arched his eyebrow at me for laughing at his enquiry. "What? I just asked you a question."

"You said 'head in a bush'. Need I say more? Speaking of which, follow me and be quick about it."

"Is something in there?"

"Just follow me", I stepped through the bush without another word.

Damien followed me into the bush, "Stuey, what the devil are you doing?"

Looking around at the area, it seemed as if we stepped into a hidden part of the Festival. Damien hurried to my side, joining me on my adventure to find the source of the dancing light. He held onto my right arm, which had become one of his more adorable habits.

"Where are we going, Stuey?" he asked.

"I saw a light shining from inside of these woodlands. I wanted to see what it was."

"You're such a big kid sometimes", Damien smiled.

"I tend to be adventurous every once in a while. Why be uptight all the time? Where's the fun in that?"

"You've a point there, Stuey", we then heard the sound of wings flapping and dripping water. Damien curiously looked into the distance. "Did you hear that? It sounded like…like someone's over there."

"Let's go check it out, Sweets."

"Okay."

We followed the sound… We trailed it all the way to a lake just minutes away from the Fairgrounds. Damien and I snuck into the area, not making a single sound. And that's when we saw it…

"_Stuart…oh my god…it's a…" Damien covered his mouth in awe._

"…_It's an angel."_

We stared upon the image of a beautiful female angel… She bathed in the lake in peace, playing with a few of nature little buddies in the process. A rascally little kit, a frisky wolf cub swimming in the water, and a pair of adorable fox cubs were with her. It was the cutest and most _heavenly_ sight we ever did see.

"Damien…I've no words to describe this", I placed my left hand over my heart. "I now see why Lord Geoffrey made the Festival of Lights. This has to be the most _beautiful_ thing I ever did see."

"Should we…go talk to her?"

"No, we can't. We'd just chase her away If we did."

"_Why? It's not fair."_

"Angels and humans aren't meant to coexist", I petted Damien's head with a smile. "I'm pretty sure we'll see her again…someday. For now, I think we should head back to the Festival."

"Okay. Let's go."

Damien and I remember that moment very well. When we saw the female angel, it did something to us. For that single moment, we felt closer to God. We saw an angel and were able to look into its vibrant aureole. That alone allowed us to know that our love was pure enough…_strong_ enough to behold its hallowed image. We couldn't stop talking about it for months.

_*****…Back to the present*****_

It's times like this where I'm reminded of these things. Though I'm currently unaware of my surroundings, I'm pretty sure that we're almost to the Infinity HQ building. Just a moment ago, Natalie received word from Stephanie that her group has finished their outing with Ms. Houston. Father Luis and the Rolling Stones are expected to arrive in Rutherford in the next hour or so.

Meanwhile, en route to Moldavia, the Count phones one of his loyal Clergymen using his private jet's business phone. The dial tone buzzes three times…before someone answers the phone.

"Bonsoir, Comte Valdo (Good evening, Count Valdo)", greets a fair-voiced Frenchman.

"Good evening, Bishop Delouse. How have you been?"

"I've been fine. And yourself?"

"I just came from Rutherford. I picked up my son from Katherine's main branch. There was a minor struggle, but I managed to make it out of there alive; just me and my boy."

"So, Lord Johannes is with you now?" smiles the Frenchman.

"Yes, he is. He'll be staying with me at my chateau in Moldavia."

"I'm very happy for you, My Lord."

"How was your work in Aldington?" questions the King of the Night.

"It didn't go so well. Henry interfered and ruined my plan to eliminate the fledgling by killing my assassin. It was such a shame – Creed's alibi had the entire Radical foundation in a state of unknowing. However, after all was said and done, Henry paid _dearly_ for his headstrong intrusions. The fledgling defeated him with a…rather _impressive_ power."

"Paradise City, I presume?" guesses the Master Vampire.

"No, it was something much more powerful than his normal existence", the Bishop's words tap at the Count's intrigue. "He looked like…_an angel of the sun_. It was _beautiful_, but terrifying at the same time. His display of power made the sun existences of the past seem…_mediocre_."

"_Hmph! So, he did it… My formidable descendant unlocked the Paradise Angel form in such a short time."_

"Paradise…Angel?"

"Yes, Jean-Claude", confirms the Lord of the Night. "Those who are lucky enough to wield such spectral clout are to be _feared_. The light of a Paradise Angel can vanquish a nightwalker in _seconds_ if used properly. Unfortunately for my audacious great-great-great-_great_-nephew, he has yet to master its power. If he faces me with a _half-assed_ Paradise Angel form, he'll fall quicker than he could _ever_ stand."

"So, should we increase his Hazard Level? He's currently a Class 5."

"His notoriety shall _remain_ at Class 5", sternly orders the Count. "His reputation isn't as lustrous as he believes it to be. He's a strong warrior; a very, _very_ strong warrior, indeed. Still, he hasn't completely mastered his existence. My _Dirty Diana_ would drown him in a sea of darkness before he could _blink_ an eye."

"Would you like for me to send them a message?"

"A message? Hmm… Yes, that's sounds lovely, Jean-Claude."

"I'm currently in the heart of Rutherford", reports the Bishop, standing on the highest building in the area. He speaks into his Bluetooth with a wicked smile. "I'm on the old chapel's rooftop. Just standing here sends a wave of déjà vu through my bones."

"_Oh, that's right – you were there on the night of 'the Massacre of 1511'. Frederic and Paddington did a number on your crew. How did you manage to survive it?"_

"When Paddington clawed away at my chest, I amplified my healing factor using my existence", explains the crafty Frenchman. A pool of blood forms at his feet… Looks familiar, doesn't it? "I played possum until they fled. I was lucky to escape with my life, and it's thanks to _your_ _blessings_ that I'm the man I am today. I owe you my life, Comte Valdo (Count Valdo), and I will do my very best to show them just how _weak_ they truly are."

"Good, Jean-Claude. Show them the true might of the Church. And make sure to do it with class."

"I promise to deliver positive results, My Lord."

"I look forward to your report", smiles the Master Vampire.

"Très bien. Passez une bonne soirée, Mon Seigneur (Alright. Have a good evening, My Lord)."

"The same to you, my friend", the Count ends the phone call, leaving the Bishop to his field duties.

Our newest pursuer is a survivor of the legendary battle of the Romance of the Tainted Rose… The Bishop of the Church, Jean-Claude Delouse: _a fearless hooded Frenchman shrouded in mystery_. What will his message be? Will it be a peaceful one? Or...will it be a message shrouded in blood?

_The epic saga continues…_

* * *

><p><em><strong>(Opening Theme 2 – "Chikyuugi" by Matsuzawa Yumi)<strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 22 – <strong>**Ribbon in the Sky**_

* * *

><p>The nocturnal streets of Rutherford are alive. The sins of mankind are plenteous. Rebellion courses through their veins, as the socialites of Rutherford City take to the local club scene. The midnight hour calls the socialites of the city from their homes, like the piper's enchanting melody. It's like this everywhere – the end of the week awakens the uncontrollable iniquities of the human heart. If they only knew the truth about the night…that vampires lurked around every corner… Trust me, they wouldn't be blithely indulging in such wild activity. Take this little number, for example:<p>

A lone female socialite exits a nearby Rutherford nightclub called "The Breakthrough". She's young and fresh, no older than 21-years; a damsel whose beauty shines like a golden sun. Having grown tired of the club scene, the young socialite retreats to her car in the parking lot.

"Ugh! I can't wait to get home to a soft bed", yawns the young socialite, before a strong breeze passes over the parking lot. After the wind calms, the young socialite looks around the area… She retrieves her car key from her purse, and unlocks the driver's door. However, her suspicions remain on high. "What the hell? Rutherford doesn't get that kind of weather in the middle of autumn."

_"It's not the weather you should be worried about, ma chère (my dear)", the female socialite is frozen with fear by the emergence of a masculine French accent._

The club-goer turns around sharply, and scans the area… Her heart beats to an anxious rhythm. All of a sudden, she feels something _crawling_ up her legs. She looks down, and notices the most frightening sight: _she's standing in a pool of blood!_ The plasma slithers up her legs like a den of serpents, and a cold chill runs through her entire body. She attempts to scream, but her voice has been drowned out for some reason.

"Help…me…" her voice becomes raw.

"Are you trying to scream for help, ma chère (my dear)?" the young socialite hears the voice with more vividness than before. She looks over her shoulder, and notices someone standing on the roof of her car… _It's our next assailant, Bishop Jean-Claude Delouse!_ He examines her sensible frame, as his existence petrifies her entire body from head to toe with its poisonous fluids. Bishop Delouse hops down from the car roof, lands on his feet and restrains the innocent club-goer with ruthless aggression. "Now, now. No screaming. No running… Your life aids the cause of notre Seigneur (our Lord)."

_"Let me go…please, let me go…" weeps the petrified socialite._

"I cannot do that, my chère (my dear). As a member of _the Elite Clergymen_, I am obligated to make a statement before pursuing my target. If you wish, I can say a prayer before I offer you as a sacrifice to Conde (Count) Valdo. If not, I will make your death beautiful nonetheless."

_"I don't want to die…please, let me go."_

"No….repose en paix (No…rest in peace)", the Bishop buries his fangs into the young lady's sternomastoid. Her screams are silent, having been drowned out by the Elite Clergyman's existence… After draining the socialite of her last ounce of blood, Bishop Delouse drops her lifeless body to the cold, hard ground. He licks the excess blood from his lips, and notices a duo of cars driving past 97613 Ellington Street – the address of the nightclub. Bishop Delouse smiles upon the fleeting presence of his target. ("Hmph. I shall not pursue him tonight. As a man of fairness, I prefer my target to be capable of defending itself. It makes the hunt all the more…interesting. Rest easy, M. Bennett (Mr. Bennett)… For a nightmare awaits you when you in the near future.")

Stephen looks around the area, remembering how quiet Rutherford can be during the nighttime. Everyone, except for the designated drivers, are sound asleep. In the condition that most of us are in, Natalie found it best to postpone the meeting until everyone's fully capable of attending. Yuvraj awakens from slumber, and feasts upon the view of Rutherford's legendary Downtown District.

"Did you rest well?" Stephen asks, grasping his comrade's attention.

"No…I didn't."

"Why? Had a bad dream?"

"More or less", the Time Bender folds his arms, and watches the road ahead.

"So, what was it about?"

Father Yuvraj corrects his comrade with solemn tone, "Paddington, you should know that vampires aren't allowed the privilege of dreaming anymore. What I had was a premonition."

"I know. I was just fucking around with ya, fella. Don't take it to heart."

"It's all right", excuses the Punjabi-Canadian. He looks into the rear-view mirror, and notices me sleeping on Damien's lap. Raj sighs, and begins confessing the content of his vision. "Anyway, my vision was about the battle to come. It was…a very grim image. I get chills just thinking about it."

"What happened?"

"A swarm of locusts appeared out of nowhere and attacked a lone fox. The fox became resilient and slashed the sky with a wave of death. However, this 'wave of death' did not kill the locusts; it gave them _unimaginable_ _power_, and the swarm subsequently began attacking a pack of burning hounds. The swarm was then destroyed by the pack's metaphysical flame. The pack turned to the fox, and attacked him without mercy. However, the pack was reduced down to one by the fox's 'wave of death'. The two opposing sides eyed each other fiercely for a second… The hound and the fox then sped forward into battle, and engaged in a struggle of supernatural power. It ended in a stalemate. The fox left the battlefield, while the injured hounds carried their fallen soldier to safety… I woke up from my premonition seconds later."

"Sounds like a twisted fairytale if you ask me", snickers the concentrating driver.

"I wish it were that simple. Unfortunately, the part of our brain that governs our dreams was disrupted after our deaths. We're only allowed to see the future. That's why vampires _hate_ to sleep – even in the midst of slumber, all we can see is _carnage_."

"Aye, you said a mouthful there, fella", Stephen notices the HQ building in the distance. Green Day senses something: _several traces of dark energy circulating around HQ parameters_… The Earth Master becomes very solemn. "Looks like Val's left his calling card. HQ's _seething_ with energy remnants."

"Is it safe to enter the area?"

"Aye, a few leftovers won't hurt anyone. I just hope the gang's doing well. There's no telling _what_ kind of chaos the Count's left in his departure."

"Well, let's try to remain optimistic about the situation", smiles the Time Bender. "When we get to Rutherford, I'm sure Katherine will motion for our band to travel to Moldavia. 'As the strongest warriors of Infinity, it's up to us to save the world' – etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. To be honest, I'd like _nothing_ _more_ than to get away from Great Britain for a while. There're way too many bad memories in this godforsaken country."

"And when we get to Moldavia, it's going to be a cakewalk? I don't think so. Val's _sure_ to send his Elite Clergymen to stop us in our tracks. You and JoMo should know that better than anyone else."

"That's true", the Time Bender laughs.

Stephen arches his eyebrow at his smiling comrade, "What's got you all giggly, fella? Something funny?"

_"No… I'm just scared of what's to come next. My grandmother once told me, 'laughter soothes a fearful soul'. So, I'm trying to stay and calm as I can…by laughing my fear away."_

"It'll be all right, Raj", Stephen pets his edgy comrade with a brotherly right hand. The Time Bender looks at his superior radical with innocent eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you, bro. Old goats like us have to stick together and all, ya know. So, get the government off your shoulders and cheer up."

"I'll try my best", Raj smiles.

However, despite his superior's pep talk, Father Yuvraj is still troubled. A vampire's dreams aren't pleasant – they're filled with frightening images. Premonitions. Omens. Signs. When a vampire sleeps, it's sure to awaken with something valuable to report. The question stands: What's the reason behind the Time Bender's vision, and what effect will it have on our future?

* * *

><p>"Well, that sure was an <em>unpleasant<em> little trip", the Rolling Stones are currently tailing Father Luis towards Rutherford City. The Lévesques requested to ride alone, so Brother Anthony and Brother Naofumi hitched a ride with their masked comrade. Paul turns on the radio to give the car some atmosphere. The classic sound of Stevie Wonder's earlier years graces the setting with a calm mood. "Steph, what do you think?"

"Hm? Think about what?"

"You and me being radicals. What do you think about it?"

"Well…" the beautiful Co-Leader thinks about it for a second. A smile comes to her face. "…I hate it, but we're the only ones who can get our party of the job done. It's different from working behind an office desk 24/7, but it provides a lot of adventure for us. In a way, I look at this as 'a second honeymoon from hell'. But then, I think about all the people who are there with us… That's when I change my mind, and smile."

"Hmph. 'A second honeymoon from hell', eh? Sounds about right."

"Well, can you blame me for thinking that way?" Stephanie giggles.

"Nope. Can't say I do."

Paul's tone has become solemn. Stephanie recognizes this sort of behavior. The Leader's not one to become extremely grim, unless something's bothering him. The beautiful Co-Leader supports her husband with encouraging words.

"I know how you feel, Paul. We're at the home stretch – our only option now would be to travel to Moldavia and confront the Count. But, knowing Katherine…"

"…She won't let us go", Paul finishes.

"Yeah, she won't. That's one _stubborn old woman, but we can't blame her for caring about our safety."_

"The Boss Lady's got a good heart. She wouldn't forbid us to do something without good reason."

"Yeah, but to have her little troop go out there by themselves?" Stephanie places her right hand on her heart. As a fellow woman, she can't agree with such a risky move. "I'm going to object. I just can't pass that motion, no matter how dangerous it would be for us to go."

"I think everyone feels the same way, Steph. Head Mother Katherine's little troop is strong, especially with Stu's Paradise City in their ranks… However, in the end, not even that could stand up to Valdo's Dirty Diana. From the latest report, the Count's existence was halved by a massive discharge of T.A.T.U.'s Crimson Matter technology. Drew secured a 50% change at success for us, but…"

"…50% still isn't enough", Stephanie finishes.

The song comes to an end… Father Luis notices something in the distance: _Rutherford's city boundaries. _After driving for an hour and a half, the party's finally made it to the city where it all started.

("500 years…") the masked radical reflects on the passage of time. ("…So much has changed during the past 5 centuries. Technology. Economy. Political influence. The people. Sí [Yes], especially the people. Rutherford's become a den of killers, unbeknownst to today's youth… I wouldn't be surprised if something happened within the past hour or so.")

_"And that was the great Stevie Wonder with 'Ribbon in the Sky', on Da World 101.3 FM", a female disc jockey reports from the radio, grasping the driver's indirect attention. Father Luis pays attention to the road, as the female disc jockey begins her report. "Hello, my midnight listeners. This is Mary J with the Late-Night Life, and I've got some disturbing news. Prayers go out to the family of 21-year-old Brandy Norwood, who was found dead an hour ago just outside of the Breakthrough nightclub. It appears as if another one of our 'dark brothers and sisters' has claimed the life of one of our young, fresh and fabulous. For funeral arrangements and/or to pay respect to the Norwood Family, please contact William Norwood, Jr. at: 074-9912-4329. That's 074-9912-4329. God bless the Norwood Family, and may God bounce you back into the groove. In memory of our late sister, here's 'Missing You' by Gladys Knight, Brandy, Tamia, and Chaka Khan."_

("Hmph. My intuition never fails me. Devuélveme mi suerte, supongo [Just my luck, I guess].")

As the song begins, Father Luis comes to a red traffic light. The party obeys the traffic laws, and comes to a stop at the red light. Brother Naofumi awakens from slumber in his 9-Tails form. His sense of smell is picking up a very foul scent. He shakes his head, attempting to relieve his nose…of the smell of blood.

"Where is that smell coming from-hihi?" questions the disturbed Yoko.

"A young girl's just been killed", reports the masked radical.

Brother Naofumi tilts his head in confusion, "Huh? A girl's been killed-hihi?"

"Sí (Yes). By a vampire, nonetheless. Mary J reported it just a minute ago."

"Where are we now-hihi?"

"A traffic light in Rutherford's Downtown District", the traffic light turns green. Father Luis continues leading Paul's car to headquarters. Brother Anthony awakens from his spot in the backseat. The faceless Técnico recognizes the Werewolf's presence. "Had a good sleep, Antonio (Anthony)?"

"Not really", yawns the drowsy Lycan.

"We will all be in a soft bed, very soon. The Halfway House has several vacant rooms, especially after the transferal of the residents to the Barcelonan Branch."

"A soft bed-hihi…" the 9-Tails yawns, before laying his head down on the passenger seat. "…Mmm, that sounds good right now-hihi."

"What time is it?" asks Brother Anthony.

"12:41 AM and counting", answers Father Luis.

"It's that late? Oh boy, I really need to hit the hay."

"Kiba-kun, you should rest your head until we get to HQ-hihi" Brother Naofumi wiggles his tails, looking back at his fellow ace vanguard. "Nao-chan will wake you when we get there-hihi. Okay-hihi?"

"Grazie, amico (Thanks, buddy)", Brother Anthony closes his eyes to get in a few more Z's.

Brother Naofumi's sense of smell bothers him again. The same thing happens to Brother Anthony. The two ace vanguards become very solemn. Father Luis recognizes their mood change, feeling the same sensation roaming through the air.

"You two sense it as well?" questions the masked radical.

"Hai, gozaimasu (Yes, we do)-hihi", nods the serious Yoko.

"That existence…" the Italian Werewolf becomes alert, and looks out of his window at the view of Rutherford's Downtown Area. "…He's here. That's the Bishop's power. But, why did Conte (Count) Valdo send Bishop Delouse of all people?"

"Because he wants us dead, that's why", Father Luis notices the Rutherford HQ just up ahead. He preps his comrades for arrival. "We'll be at headquarters in the next minute or so. Do not worry about Bishop Delouse as of right now. Knowing him, he'll attack us this evening."

"Why wait so long?" questions the curious Brother Anthony.

"Tomorrow's the next red moon of the month. The red moon is an Elite Clergyman's favorite time to hunt. This silver moon's not fitting of one of the Elite; it's too calm and normal. An Elite member would rather killer under a symbol of death, than a symbol of peace. Do you understand now, Antonio (Anthony)?"

"Yes, I do. Grazie, Padre Luis (Thank you, Father Luis)."

A cool breeze runs across the Rutherford terrain… Weather reports spoke of rain by 1:30 AM. Clouds are already starting to cover the night sky, so it's only a matter of time before the rainfall comes. The rumble of thunder sounds in the distance. The Bishop's allowing us a night to rest, so everything will be peaceful for us…until tomorrow evening finally arrives.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in Moldavia, a rainstorm has already passed over the grand countryside. The Count has since put his son to bed, and has left him in the comfort of his bedchamber in the western wing. The fleeting raindrops seem melancholic to the Master Vampire. He knows, deep down in the depths of his old soul, that he's no longer invincible… That time's only of the essence…before he sees defeat.<p>

About an hour ago, Count Valdo felt his existence of darkness's power level… It's been halved by a strong disruption wave. The effects are permanent. Once an existence lose a portion of its territory, a vampire cannot get it back on his own. He must do one thing, and one thing only, in order to restore his lost power.

("I must suck the blood of a Crusnik"), he reflects on the lessons taught to him by his former master. The Count walks to a portrait on the western wall of his bedchamber. Immortalized in this portrait is the image of the original Head Patriarch of the Church: _Count Mephisto Orlok Nosferatu III_. Count Valdo carelessly stumbled into enemy territory in his selfishness, and allowed himself to be ensnared by Father Andrew's technological curse. ("I cannot _believe_ the extent of my folly. Now, I'll have to take something _else_ from them all over again… Hmph. If I keep this up, I'll become nothing more than a petty thief.")

The Lord of the Night mentally categories his options, as he approaches his bedroom door. There're only 3 Crusniks left in the world:_ my fiancé, Damien Crosse; my future kind, Alexander Crosse; and my future father-in-law, Jameson Crosse, who I admiringly address as "Papa Jim"._ The three remaining men of the Crosse Bloodline – the Count's doesn't have many options to choose from… He can only pick one, and one alone.

("Those three accursed Eaters leave me with meager alternatives. I wouldn't _dare_ sink my teeth into Alexander's body, knowing the displeasures of his Heart of Glass. Jameson's wheelchair bound, so he would be too much of a _bore_ to hunt down. That only leaves me with one option… The dark angel of the battlefield: _Damien Crosse, the Half-eater_… Curse you, fate! Why must I continuously take things from my own family members?")

The Count opens his door, and parts from his bedchamber. He begins walking towards the western wing to check up on his son. As the Lord of the Night travels the halls of his mysterious chateau, his old soul is plagued with guilt. Looking back on all the things he's done, he remembers his past self… The "self" before Selena's ritual.

("I was a good man… That foolish woman! Why didn't she leave me dead? Why did she turn me into…_this monster?_ I can no longer control my emotions. I'm subjected to my impulses, and my heart's become _colder_ than a feral snowstorm. It's incapable of truly loving someone… No, I shouldn't say that. I _do_ _love_ Thaddeus with all my heart and soul; however, in his current condition… I shouldn't think of these things. I mean, why should I? I'm 'the Count' – everyone's afraid of me, or they want me dead. Either way, I'm the enemy of _every living creature _in the world, and the savior of the undead. Yes, there are those who stand against me, but they've either all fallen…or… Or they've _tricked_ me into a corner, just like the one I'm in right now. As time progresses, I can truly feel death's _cold_ sting – a knife to my spirit that I've grown to love…but fear at the same time. Sometimes I ask myself 'should I discontinue my revolution?' 'Should I relieve myself of the animosity?' 'Is the struggle even worth the effort?' But then, I look to my son's gentle face…and the answer comes to me.")

Count Valdo arrives to his son's ajar bedchamber door, and peers through it with loving eyes… Brother Johnny's sound asleep in his normal form. The brainwashed Strigoi seems so peaceful, so innocent. If _anyone_ should lead the night, it should be him. Brother Johnny's true mind is a man with _a heart of gold_, and a personality that would brighten a rainy night sky… Count Valdo silently closes his son's bedroom door. He then places his hand onto its wooden frame, and reflects on the decisions of his old heart.

("My son, a man with a heart of gold, has the power to rule this world. To continue my struggle for world domination reduces the danger that comes along with his position as Count. Johannes, my only son… I will secure your position's safety…by eliminating all those who stand before us. As a father, in my death…I want you to live a life of peace, free from the hostilities of these pesky radicals. But, first, I will wait for the enemy to come a hair's length from our home…and take their most precious dark angel. For the sake of the race!")

At the same time, Damien awakens from a disturbing nightmare in the comfort his old dorm room… The Halfway House feels cold, and his heart is uneasy. He looks around the room, and instantly notices that Brother N'Dour's not there with him. From what he's gathered from Father Andrew, all residents were transported to the Barcelonan Branch several hours ago, during the Count's hostile invasion. The Archbishop's now in our custody, along with the King of Rutherford. The Church is sure to be lurking around the area.

("I need to talk to someone…anyone…") Damien sits up, puts on his boots and leaves his bedroom.

At the moment, I'm under the supervision of Niccolò, who took the liberty of monitoring the vital signs of all those under catatonic stasis. Father Andrew heard the Former Cardinal's ideas about Il Neve Pupazzetti (The Snow Puppets) , and gave approval to have Niccolò's cryogenic units transferred to Rutherford within the next 10 hours. If this is the Cryobiologist's way of fighting back, then Infinity's _more_ than willing to accumulate the small army of superhumans into their ranks. The Former Cardinal sees himself as a traitor, but for all the right reasons. In the end, he knows that his life will be taken… That doesn't scare him; death means nothing to one who's no longer among the world of the living.

A knock comes from the laboratory door… The hooded radical activates the facility's security cameras, and sees the image of none other than Damien standing behind the security door. He's come to the laboratory, knowing that this is where I'm being kept. Niccolò approaches the cybernetic door's keypad, inputs his password and gives the troubled Crusnik access to the area. The door opens… Damien notices Niccolò leaving the door without acknowledging his presence.

"Well, 'hello' to you too, old man", Damien snickers.

"What are you doing here, Damiano (Damien)? Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I can't sleep", Damien enters the room, and walks up to my bed. He folds his arms, and smiles upon my peaceful image. "How are they doing? Any progression?"

"No, they're not going to awaken for another 8 hours", Niccolò arrives to the supercomputer's keypad, and continues monitoring his subjects' vital signs. He attempts to free himself of his visitor's presence with kind words. "It's late, Damiano (Damien). You should return to your dorm for the night. You wouldn't want to tire yourself out, bambino (boy)."

"Are you trying to get rid of me, old man?" Damien turns on his heel and smiles upon the busy scientist's solemn character. The Half-eater approaches the supercomputer…and stands at Niccolò's right. Damien then attempts to look at the Former Cardinal's face, but Niccolò turns his head away to hide his true image. "Are you being shy, Mr. Giuliani? I know you're cute under that hood, so don't try to hide it."

"It's best that we not get involved with each other. Because of my past affiliation with la Chiesa (the Church), your race was wiped off of the face of the earth. I don't know why you refuse to hate me."

"I'm not qualified to be anyone's juror. I'm not mean, I don't carry grudges, and I love all of my friends _regardless_ of their past life. Stuart was involved in a gang in Manchester as a teenager. You don't see me hating him for it, now do you?"

"Damiano (Damien), please…just leave me be…" a bloody tear falls from the Former Cardinal's right eye. The guilt of his past sins is eating away at his old heart. However, despite his pleas…Damien refuses to leave him alone. Niccolò places his hands at his side, attempting to keep his voice at a minimum. "Damiano (Damien), you really should not get involved with me. Please…leave."

"I will not", my loving fiancé walks up to the lamenting nightwalker and cradles against him. Niccolò looks down upon Damien's smaller frame. He then turns his head away the Half-eater, and engages in a silent battle with his impulses. "I won't leave you alone, Mr. Giuliani, no matter what you say to me. What you did in the past may have ruined thousands of my kind, but you've already repented for that sin. Who am I to judge you in the first place? It wouldn't be fair of me if I did."

_"I know that, but… But, I…"_

"Mr. Giuliani…I want to see your face", Damien's request freezes the Former Cardinal in place.

The Half-eater walks in front of the bashful radical, and wipes the small trail of blood from the scientist's face. Damien places his hands on Niccolò's head, and attempts to relieve the Cryobiologist of his hood… Niccolò holds Damien's hands, and stops him.

"Why, Niccolò? Why can't I see who you really are?"

"If you see my face…your heart will break", the Cryobiologist warns.

"No, it won't. I want to see the face of the man that's helping my fiancé. I don't care how it will make me feel in the end. I've always been stubborn, and I never back down until I have my heart's desire in the palm of my hand. So, I won't leave you alone, no matter what you say…because I like you, Mr. Giuliani."

"Fine…do as you wish", Niccolò releases my fiancé's hands.

Damien relieves the Former Cardinal of his hood, and beholds the face…_of his ex-boyfriend_. The Half-eater's eyes widen, shocked by what he sees. Niccolò turns away from Damien, facing his back to his former lover.

"Bryan? Is that really you?"

"I warned you, Damiano (Damien)…" the Former Cardinal hoods himself. Damien approaches the Cryobiologist, and embraces his ex's strong waist with warm arms. Niccolò, in his stubbornness, attempts to free himself of Damien's touch with melancholic words. "…I know that I'm not worthy of your love, bambino (boy). I volunteered to help your fiancé get better to give Andréj (Andrew) a chance to rest. This is a job, nothing more. So, please…just release me."

"I missed you, Bryan", Damien's embrace becomes a bit tighter. The Cryobiologist looks over his shoulder to his former lover, and gently holds the Half-eater's hands. Damien retains his stubbornness. "Don't push me away, please. I'm begging you, Bryan…no… Niccolò, please, don't be mad at me?"

"I'm a selfish man, Damiano (Damien)… If it were 2004 all over again, I'd take you in my arms and make love to you right here and now. But, those days are no more; we got into an argument, separated, and you soon started dating that bastardo insensate (senseless bastard), Bob Marley. No more than a year later, you began seeing…_him_. And now, I'm taking care of your lover until he recovers… Stuarda (Stuart) will awaken in 8 hours. Until then, you should leave here and get some rest."

"So, you do hate me after all…" Damien releases his ex-boyfriend, and begins leaving the laboratory. He arrives to the security door, and waits for it to open… After a few seconds of silence, and no action, Damien turns around and looks at the gloomy expression on Niccolò's face. "…What? Aren't you going to push me away some more? You were _very_ adamant about getting me away from you. What, did you change your mind already?"

"I want you to get one thing straight, bambino (boy)", the Former Cardinal approaches the Half-eater, and places his arms around Damien's smaller frame. My fiancé looks into the Cryobiologist's eyes, and sees a warm sea of emotion gazing upon him. Damien's frozen by Niccolò's affectionate verse. "I don't hate you, Damiano (Damien). If anything, I want to take you back right now. But, that wouldn't be fair to Stuarda (Stuart)…and that wouldn't be fair to you, either. I'm a selfish, greedy and covetous old man. When I love someone, even if I argue with them, I still go back to them in the end… I still wish to be with you, but my heart refuses to interfere you're your love live. I've done _terrible_ things to the Crusnik Race, and I've yet to forgive myself of these transgressions."

"But, can't we be friends? We were once before…right?"

"Is this your 'heart's desire', bambino (boy)?"

"Yes, Niccolò, it is."

The Cryobiologist's eyes become warm, "Then, I will do as you wish. Ma, ti amo ancora, Damiano (But, I still love you, Damien). Ho sempre...e io sempre ti amerò (I always have…and I always will love you). Do come to me when you need my support, bambino (boy)."

_"Niccolò…" my fiancé embraces his ex, who has lovingly opened the doors of his heart._

"I warned you, didn't I?" the Cryobiologist embraces his former lover, as Damien begins to weep in his arms. The wise old soul pets the Half-eater with a loving right hand. "Like I said before: 'if you see my face…your heart will break'. You should listen to the words of the wise, bambino (boy)."

_"Niccolò…I'm sorry…"_

"No more tears, Damiano (Damien)", shushes the loving Italian radical. The Cryobiologist looks to my resting body with defeated eyes. He's silent about it, but he's still jealous about our relationship. However, in the end, Damien's happiness is all that matters. "If you want, you can sleep next to your fiancé. His bed is big enough for the both of you."

_"Yes…I'd like that…"_

"I'll dim the lights to help you rest. Now, please, go and lie down for the remainder of the night. You don't want to be drowsy at Mother Katherine's meeting. You'll miss out on some important information if you are."

_"Okay…goodnight", Damien excuses himself to my bed._

"Buonanotte, Damiano (Goodnight, Damien)", wishes the Cryobiologist, before returning to his duties.

It's funny how fate brings people back together. I've heard Damien speak of his relationship with _the American Dragon_ in the past… He only spoke about the bad things, never the good. In a way, this little meeting was a means for them to _finally_ get some kind of closure in their lives. Damien and Niccolò are now friends. That in itself is a wonderful, wonderful thing. They can now move on with their lives, and walk hand-in-hand towards the same beacon of light…just as it should've been from the start.

* * *

><p>The morning sun is almost here… Bishop Delouse watches the cloudy horizon gain a gentle golden glow. As a vampire of the olden ages, he loathes the image of a sunny sky. The dawn is the most angering moment of a bloodsucker's life… The dawn speaks of hope. Birth. Life. The future. To the Elite Clergymen, such feelings are meaningless. They believe such things should fade away… That they should no longer exist. Just like the Count, their hearts are corrupted by a darkness that knows no boundary. Therefore, their desires are one in the same with the coldhearted Lord of the Night.<p>

("A new sun shall soon grace the streets of Rutherford"), loathes the Elite Clergyman. At the same time, he knows that the time's almost here – the moment that he'll confront us face-to-face. According to the Count, it's his mission to send a message to us… And that's exactly what he plans on doing. ("The city shall will be painted a hot shade of red. I will stand alone against the Infinity radicals, and create 'a second massacre'… A battle that will shake the very foundation of history. Pour des raisons de la course [For the sake of the race]!")

A remnant wind of the passed rainstorm brushes across the Rutherford terrain… The Bishop will come to us looking for a fight. He claims that it will "shake the foundation" of Rutherford's history. That alone should speak the entirety of what's to come in the near future. I wonder... What nightmares are the Bishop's existence capable of, and…will we even be able to defend against it?

I suddenly find the strength to sit up… Damien attempts to lay me back down.

"Stuey, please, don't strain yourself", he pleads.

_"I'll be fine, Damien."_

"Oh, Stuey, you can talk now", Damien hugs me with relieved mirth. I hold him with my right arm, pleased to have my boy at my side. "Thank goodness. I thought you were going to be stuck in that bed for another hour."

"Don't worry yourself too much, dear. Daddy will be just fine."

"Stuey… Niccolò watched over us all night. He told me to let you know that, and that he hopes you'll be all right. You always seem to make friends in the oddest of situations."

"I can settle for that remark", approves the Optic Master. Father John notices the time on his wristwatch. The meeting's scheduled for 4:30 PM, and it's already 3:59 in the afternoon. "It's about time for us to head over to the Conference Hall. If Stu's up and running, we should jet before Paul begins running his mouth. You know how confrontation he gets when he's stood up… Stu, you think you can move?"

_"I'm a little wobbly right now, but I can probably manage a wheelchair. Are there any available?"_

"I'll go fetch one from the supply room", Father Andrew excuses himself.

I have become a lot stronger in the past few weeks. My biological recovery rate's already _beyond_ human capability, but it seems to have sped up just a little bit more. My chances of defeating the Count have increased, but I'm in no condition to face anyone right now. I can't even move my legs… The Paradise Angel is a power that I'm currently _incapable_ of controlling, but I'll find a way to master it…somehow.

Natalie preps her radicals for departure.

"Everyone, let's head to the Conference Hall", orders the Head Mother. "Father Andrew will escort Damien and Stuart to the meeting room. Lovebirds, we'll see you in a few minutes."

"You boys play nice while we're gone, you hear?" teases Grandpa Christopher in his departure.

"Oi! No picking with the young, old man", I smile to him, as the radicals depart for the Conference Hall. Damien has a seat next to me at my right, and cradles against my side. He's concerned about me… Damien's my boy to the very end. "Has anyone ever told you that you're really cute when you act like this?"

"Yeah, they have. Someone's always telling me that I'm cute. I believe them at times, but really… I have a hard time accepting it."

"How come? You're a man of exceptional beauty."

"That's the problem. People think I'm cute because of my _outer_ appearances."

"Well, I tend to look on the 'inside' of people", my words spark a small light inside of Damien's heart. He looks to me with innocent eyes, surprised by my mature outlook on love. "The outside of a person gets old with age. Why bother yourself with something that's _momentary_ and doesn't last forever? If someone wants to love something that lasts forever, they might as well _screw a statue_ and make a couple of pebbles."

_"Ha! A couple of pebbles…" Damien's tickled by my witty verse._

"It's true. Shallowness can only be pleased a statue. People aren't made perfect, yet the world searches _high and low_ for the 'the perfect woman' or 'the perfect man'… It's a pitiful perception of reality, almost like a dream. Yes, a fairytale created by a horny teenaged _boob_ who decided to write a romance novel and get every adolescent _hot_ with bedroom fantasies. I envy our elders for existing in a time where love was taken seriously."

"You and me both, dear", Damien plants a kiss on my cheek, as Father Andrew rolls a wheelchair up to us. The Cyber-technologist helps me into the chair… My fiancé smiles, witnessing how well we get along. "Even at times like this, you're still being a big brother-figure, Drew."

"Yeah, thanks a million, bro", I'm seated properly in the wheelchair by my supportive comrade.

"Don't mention it, Stu", Drew stands behind me and begins wheeling me out of the room.

"Oi, I can push myself", I playfully argue.

"Shut your yap, kiddo", Damien follows us to the security door. Father Andrew enters his passcode into the keypad, and opens the door for us. He returns to his position and wheels me out of the laboratory. My fiancé continues to follow us towards the Conference Hall. "You need to conserve your energy. Word has it that the Bishop's going to pay us a little visit. He's an Elite Clergyman, which means that he's _nobody_ to mess around with."

_"I don't get it. How can a Bishop be an Elite Clergyman, while the Archbishop was just a normal one?"_

"I'd like to know that myself", Damien seconds.

"It's simple – Val likes these guys _more_ than anyone else in the Church", Andrew explains. "It's the Count's eccentric personality. Plus, on top of that, the Bishop's _twice_ as strong as Thaddeus. Even with the Count's blood, Thad wouldn't stand a chance against that man."

"Well, doesn't that sound troublesome", I remain cool after hearing such a frightening description.

"Stuey…we'll face him together", I look up to my fiancé with a loving smile. Damien seems calm, almost fearless. He looks to me with confident expression. "All of us – we'll face him as a team. If push comes to shove, you and I will go head-to-head with him. I'm not letting you fight alone this time… I'll be there by your side."

"I won't argue with you", I look forward at the path ahead with a smile. "If this's what you want, then who am I to stop you? You're a warrior, after all. A cute one, but a warrior nonetheless."

"I'm glad you approve, Daddy."

"You can save 'the premarital sugar talk' for later", smirks the Scotsman. He pets my head, showing how proud he is of me. "Right now, you should be preparing yourselves for the unexpected. Anything and _everything_ can happen when an Elite Clergyman's involved. As our two strongest warriors, we're counting on you to take the frontline if need be… Can we count on your power, Stuart, Damien?"

_"Yes", we answer._

I hold onto Damien's left hand with my right. He looks down to me with warm expression… My fiancé notices that I'm feeling a little nervous. I can't lie – _I'm frozen stiff_. If an Elite Clergyman's capable of _that_ level of power, then we're going to be faced by one _deadly_ adversary. The thought of what could happen…_scares_ _me_.

* * *

><p>A few minutes pass, and everyone's gathered in the meeting room… Everyone except for my party, that is. The Leader of the Rolling Stones is starting to become bored. No…he's it's more like he's becoming irate.<p>

_"What's taking them so long? Don't they realize that this meeting's of the upmost importance?"_

"Mother Katherine did say they'd be a few minutes late", Stephanie crosses her legs and folds her arms. She notices the time on her cellphone. "4:40 PM already? I know it's a little walk, but it's taking them _this_ long?"

"If they don't show up in the next two minutes, I'm hunting them down", Brother Heath and Brother Jayson stealthily sneak up behind the Faction Leader. He notices their shadows on the ground, and becomes hostile. "And what are you two _clowns_ doing? Trying to find your nuts or something?"

"Just wondering why you're acting like your girdle's too tight", sarcastically answers the Gunslinger.

_"The Church is on our ass. How am I supposed to feel?"_

"Take a chill pill, Boss Man", Brother Jayson blows a small blizzard from his jaws and sends a cold chill down Paul's spine. The sight of their former boss's reaction tickles the cyborg pair. "Ha! There, now you're not nervous anymore. 2 points for the Iceman."

"I'm…going…to _kill_…you…" shudders the frozen Leader, before he sneezes.

"Not in that state…" the troublemaking Methuselahs are suddenly snatched by their ears. Sister Sarona's had about enough of their shenanigans, and has restrained them with little effort. The Gunslinger pleads to the Huntress to release them. "…Geez, Ronnie, we were just kidding! Let us go, will ya?"

"Sit down and shut up, now", the tough-as-nails fem-cyborg releases her comrades. She then folds her arms, and scolds the two troublemakers for their rude actions. "Don't go picking on humans like a pair of dicks! That's bad form for our association. Besides, the Rolling Stones are valuable allies. You should treat them with more respect. If not, I can teach you some. So, what will it be?"

"Oh, you won't have to worry about us", nervously smiles the retreating Iceman.

"Yeah, we'll be good", seconds the Gunslinger.

"…BOO!" roars the Huntress, sending the troublemakers running for their seats in fear of her wrath. Everyone laughs at how dysfunctional the Methuselahs can be. The Huntress then touches Paul's shoulder, and sends a minor wave of electrical currents through his body. The shock reduces the freezing sensation. "Sorry about that. Those two can be a little crazy after rehabilitation."

The Faction Leader excuses their actions, "It's all right. I guess I needed to cool off anyway. I just hate waiting on others to arrive. It's boring, and I get a little worked up when I'm not having a good time."

The door to the meeting room opens. Damien steps to the side, and holds the door open for Father Andrew and me. My fiancé closes the door for us, upon our entrance. Natalie begins the meeting, as we take our seats in the front row next to our traveling companions and superiors.

"Thank you for joining us, boys. This meeting is now in session. We're contemplating the motion of traveling to Romania. The time to confront the Count is now. We've cleared all of his Rutherford Branch members in the course of 1 month. In order to stand a chance against Valdo's forces, the strongest members of our association should take the frontline, while the rest of us remain in the background as reserves."

"Mother Katherine, if I may, I'd like to say something", Stephanie stands from her chair.

"What's on your mind, Stephanie?"

"Mother Kate, the Rolling Stones are concerned about your group going there by yourselves. The Romanian Branches are _ten-times_ more dangerous than the ones here in Great Britain. If you guys go out there, there could be a chance that…well…"

"Stephanie, you truly are an angel, aren't ya?" Stephen lounges in his chair with confident swagger. The beautiful Faction Co-Leader pays attention to her superior's words. "Relax, lassie. You're talking about a bunch of old pros, not a set of rookies. I can't really say the same for Stu and Day-Day, but two spitfires like them won't have much trouble. We're _all_ scared here, Steph. There ain't a single one of us who doesn't fear the Count's power, but staying behind's no longer an option. If we don't go to him, _he'll_ come to us…and you know what he'll do if he comes here – a bloody massacre. In the end, we're not safe either way. With T.A.T.U. out-of-order, everyone in this facility's a walking target. That's why we're leaving."

"If you guys go, then take me with you", Mary Victoria stands. Everyone pays attention to her motion. The Vestal speaks with conviction. "I may not seem like it, but I was once one of the Church's strongest Clergywomen. To my former masters, I humbly apologize… But, it would be too much of a loss to send you into battle. I was once a member of the Elite, but I stepped down because I no longer wanted to kill anyone or anything."

"I recall your services with the Elite from your criminal records", remembers the Head Mother. "I was just going to offer you the chance to join us. Due to your excessive knowledge of the Church, and your talents, you'd be more than an asset to our cause."

"Madre (Mother) Katherine, I would also like to join your party", Father Luis stands. "I spoke with a couple of our radicals, and they agree that my power will be of some service to you. To confront El Conde (The Count) is the reason why I joined this association. Also, I want do to this because…well, I miss working with my former partner. And we _all_ know how strong Teodoro (Theodore) and I are as a team."

"I second that motion", Brother Theodore raises his hand in a fit of joy.

"Hmph. I also miss the influence my charisma has on you…bonehead."

_"What did you call me?" snaps the Youth Minister._

"A bonehead. Need I repeat myself again, Teodoro (Theodore)?"

_"What? How dare you! If I wasn't a man of God, I'd…!"_

"Order, order!" the Head Mother bangs her gavel on her podium. All standing speakers have a seat, as Natalie recognizes their motions. "Father Luis, we've already decided that you should join us. Your field experience is world-renowned, and your existence is amongst the most powerful of our agents. Both you and Mary Victoria will be accompanying us. The remainder of you will join us as well, but you'll be stationed at different branches in Romania. You'll be in charge of securing your jurisdictions in our absence. The main branches are located in Transylvania, Wallachia, Bucharest, Bukovina, Bessarabia, and Moldavia. Five teams will be dispatched to cover each of the lesser Romanian Branches, while my party works their way to Moldavia. The floor is now open for any further motions. Are there any questions or comments?"

No one has any further input… The room's quiet. After what they've just found out, who could disagree with such a motion? Natalie has no other choice but to end the meeting right here.

"Then, this meeting shall now come to a close. We leave for Romania in 24-hours. You're all dismissed."

The Head Mother's gavel is banged on the podium… All of a sudden, an immeasurable amount of territorial energy circulates throughout the area. Everyone's alerted by its stinging presence.

"He's here", Stephen stands from his chair.

As my traveling partners approach the eastern windows, I suddenly begin feeling a little sensation in my legs. They're not yet strong enough to walk with, but I can tell that it won't be long before I can stand and fight. My traveling partners can see the image of a lone hooded figure.

The Earth Master huffs, with unsurprised character, "Hmph. No doubt about it… That's JC in the flesh."

Natalie turns to her radicals and gives them specific orders, "Everyone, surround the facility with a defensive territorial barrier while we confront the Bishop. Stuart, until you're able to walk, it's best that you stay in here. Damien, we need you out there. Are you ready?"

My courageous boy nods with a smile, "You bet. I'm looking forward to testing this 'Bishop's' mettle."

"Good, we're counting on you. Everyone, good luck. For Infinity!"

"For Infinity!" salutes the cast of loyal radicals, as my assortment of friends depart from the room.

Natalie leads her team to the courtyard. Stephen, Yuvraj, Theodore, John, and Damien are at her tail… Bishop Delouse awaits them in silence, feeling the presence of five strong existence in the process. His vampire blood boils with excitement. The hooded assailant holds the palm of his right hand to his line of vision… He aches to have them covered with the blood of his enemies.

"Jean-Claude!" the Head Mother's voice attracts the Elite Clergyman's attention. The heroic sextet arrives, and stands face-to-face with a very powerful adversary. Natalie becomes defensive, and questions the hooded assailant with stern tone. "What are you doing here? What, the Count couldn't face us himself? He had to send one of his lapdogs in his place?"

"And now I see why Le Comte (The Count) sent me here", laughs the Elite Clergyman. Bishop Delouse places his fists behind his back, and stands proudly before his targets. He analyzes them with fluent verse. "A bitter old woman leading a group of mindless rebels… That is what you 'radicals' really are. I wonder if you really believe you'll be a challenge for me with your unimpressive power levels."

"Well, aren't you the cheeky one", Damien snarls resentfully.

"I'm assuming you must be Damien Crosse. You look just like your Great-uncle. The resemblance is almost…scary. But, I can't lie – you're _much_ more beautiful than your ancestor, ma chère (my dear)."

"I'm flattered…really", sarcastically snickers the resilient Half-eater.

"You should be, jeune homme (young man). To be the product of an Elite Clergyman's work should be more than an honor. Rejoice! For, you shall soon become…apart of my existence!"

A pool of blood forms at the Bishop's feet. Damien and Stephen recognize it as 'Blood on the Dance Floor', but there's something different about it… It's territorial energies feel _a lot more powerful_ than the original.

"That's…The Moonwalker's existence, Blood on the Dance Floor", Natalie gasps.

"How can two people have the same existence?" questions Brother Theodore.

"Two people?" laughs the Bishop, as his pool of lifeblood biologically creates the form of…The Moonwalker! The radicals are stunned to see the serial killer's image. Bishop Delouse mocks their surprised expressions with cruel laughter. "Heh-heh-heh! The Moonwalker was a ploy created to keep you fools from entering Rutherford. It was all a part of Le Comte's (The Count's) plan to retrieve his son, Lord Johannes. From what I've heard, Comte (Count) Valdo's mission was an absolute success. And now…_I will beat you until l'Ange du Soleil (The Angel of the Sun)decides to show his face_."

"l'Ange du Soleil? Are you talking about…Stuart?"

"That's right, Master of the Crazy Diamond. Out of all of you, the Half-eater and the Dhampir stand the greatest chance against me. The rest of you are worms at my feet. You might as well roll over and die peacefully."

"Ha! You think we're running away from you, fella?" Stephen summons his emerald brambles onto his right forearm. Father Yuvraj digs into his jacket and draws three knives from his existence. Father John poises his hands in a diamond shape before his line of vision. Brother Theodore mentally summons a field of diamonds before him. Natalie forms a ball of flames in her right palm. The Earth Master stands proud before the Elite Clergyman. "We're not running away. We're not backing down. And, trust me, it'd be smart of ya not to underestimate us. We're _much_ tougher than we look."

"We've come too far to run away from the likes of you", Father John's eyes glow with a crimson light.

"Too many lives were taken in the process", Father Yuvraj shines the steel of his blades at his opponent.

"And that's why…" Damien holds his hands forward, and summons his scythe of Crimson Matter into his grasp. He holds his weapon in a reared quarterstaff position, and prepares himself for battle. "…And that's why, we'll face you with everything we've got. Bishop Delouse…prepare yourself!"

"I see", the Elite Clergyman smiles upon the resiliency of his target. "Then allow me to grace you all…_with the beauty of an untimely death, by drowning you all in a crimson river of blood!_"

As the radicals' territorial barrier activates, I look outside the centermost eastern window with a worried heart… My legs still aren't moving properly. If I face the Bishop in this physical state, I'll be nothing but a burden to my friends…and I could very well lose my life. Come on, Paradise City, hurry up and restore yourself! If I don't do something fast…they'll all… My friends…my fiancé… They're die fighting this monster!

Why won't my legs move right?

What can I do to help my friends?

Is there any hope for us in this encounter of fate?

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme <em>–<em> "Colors" by Utada Hikaru)_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Up Next: Chapter 23 <em>–<em> Blood is on the Dance Floor)_**


	24. Chapter 23: Blood is on the Dance Floor

We've been through so much. We've seen nightmares together…and conquered them side-by-side, hand-in-hand. I truly feel a connection with them. Stephen: _the easygoing Irish warrior with an impeccable fighting spirit. _Damien admiringly calls him "Stevie Wonder" or "Stevie". I do the same, because that knucklehead's always doing something amazing…or just plain adorable. His smile… I like Stephen's smile. He's a protective and _rowdy_ S.O.B., but he always has his reasons for being that way. I can willingly call this man "my bro", and not cut as much as a flinch. I'm more than glad to have embarked on this journey with him. He's my bestfriend…and I wouldn't trade him for all the riches in the world.

Natalie and Theodore: _the eternal lovers who fight to end the suffering of the innocent._ Theodore doesn't say much, but his words are always important when he speaks. Natalie, on the other hand, is very expressive and overbearing…in a cute way that is. We've been friends for a long time, but our relationship has strengthened in the past few weeks. They're a positive model of what it means to _truly_ be in love. I learn a lot just by observing how warm and loving they are with each other. A true inspiration – that's what they are to me.

Yuvraj: _the intellectual assassin with the power to bend the laws of time and space._ This man has become like a big brother to me. He's calm and collected, but can become fierce under pressure. Then again, that's how most vampires are… I've seen Raj's true face before, and I can honestly say that he's one hell of an opponent. Emphasis on the world "hell". Other than that, he enjoys reading and has a lot of interesting stories to share with us. His main reason for joining Infinity is to be able to live happily with his beloved wife. I commend him for standing strong on his resolve, and pray that he sees her again…someday.

John: _the dashing, acrobatic strategist who possesses a heart of extreme passion._ Damien and I have a very extensive past with John and, during that time, he became like family to us. Just like my fiancé, he's a man of exceptional beauty; inside and out, his masculine splendor shines as bright as the sun. Though we reunited on grim terms, John's heart led him directly back to us. He's been a valuable companion ever since, and always finds the time to brighten everyone's day. I pray for Melina's delivery, for I believe that John will make more than a good father to his son. I can't wait to see the adorable babe's little face…as his godfather.

And, last by not least… Damien: _my beloved fiancé; the rock that has made my life "heaven on earth"._ Every moment that I'm with him, every second that he's in my arms… It's an eternity I can live in for the remainder of my days. I trust Damien with my life, and I thank God that we met that night in Chelsea. I've known him for over 6 years, and I plan on marrying him as soon as possible. I still can't believe that he's this powerful… Damien used to be the most delicate flower. Now, he's a warrior. It's funny how time changes people…but I trust him more now, than ever before. I love him. And, in the end, that's all that really matters.

But now, these relationships are in danger of being taken away from me. Damien and our close friends… They've gone to face a _terrible_ opponent: _the Bishop of the Church of the Red Moon, Jean-Claude Delouse_. He's revealed the origins of The Moonwalker: _he was a puppet created from the Bishop's existence of empathy, Blood on the Dance Floor._ What we faced back in Aldington was nothing more than _a disposable doll_. I can only imagine the _terrors_ his existence is truly capable of.

As I observe my companions' confrontation with the Bishop, my heart feels the urge to act. I want to save them…but there's absolutely _nothing_ I can do in my present state. I'm wheelchair-bound because of my battle against the King of Rutherford, Henry Tudors. Because my true form, the Paradise Angel, was too much for me handle…I can only sit and watch… But, in my silence, I'm praying to God for their safety.

"Jean-Claude!" the Head Mother's voice attracts the Elite Clergyman's attention. The heroic sextet arrives, and stands face-to-face with a very powerful adversary. Natalie becomes defensive, and questions the hooded assailant with stern tone. "What are you doing here? What, the Count couldn't face us himself? He had to send one of his lapdogs in his place?"

"And now I see why Le Comte (The Count) sent me here", laughs the Elite Clergyman. Bishop Delouse places his fists behind his back, and stands proudly before his targets. He analyzes them with fluent verse. "A bitter old woman leading a group of mindless rebels… That is what you 'radicals' really are. I wonder if you really believe you'll be a challenge for me with your unimpressive power levels."

"Well, aren't you the cheeky one", Damien snarls resentfully.

"I'm assuming you must be Damien Crosse. You look just like your Great-uncle. The resemblance is almost…scary. But, I can't lie – you're _much_ more beautiful than your ancestor, ma chère (my dear)."

"I'm flattered…really", sarcastically snickers the resilient Half-eater.

"You should be, jeune homme (young man). To be the product of an Elite Clergyman's work should be more than an honor. Rejoice! For, you shall soon become…apart of my existence!"

A pool of blood forms at the Bishop's feet. Damien and Stephen recognize it as 'Blood on the Dance Floor', but there's something different about it… It's territorial energies feel _a lot more powerful_ than the original.

"That's…The Moonwalker's existence, Blood on the Dance Floor", Natalie gasps.

"How can two people have the same existence?" questions Brother Theodore.

"Two people?" laughs the Bishop, as his pool of lifeblood biologically creates the form of…The Moonwalker! The radicals are stunned to see the serial killer's image. Bishop Delouse mocks their surprised expressions with cruel laughter. "Heh-heh-heh! The Moonwalker was a ploy created to keep you fools from entering Rutherford. It was all a part of Le Comte's (The Count's) plan to retrieve his son, Lord Johannes. From what I've heard, Comte (Count) Valdo's mission was an absolute success. And now…_I will beat you until l'Ange du Soleil (The Angel of the Sun)decides to show his face_."

"l'Ange du Soleil? Are you talking about…Stuart?"

"That's right, Master of the Crazy Diamond. Out of all of you, the Half-eater and the Dhampir stand the greatest chance against me. The rest of you are worms at my feet. You might as well roll over and die peacefully."

"Ha! You think we're running away from you, fella?" Stephen summons his emerald brambles onto his right forearm. Father Yuvraj digs into his jacket and draws three knives from his existence. Father John poises his hands in a diamond shape before his line of vision. Brother Theodore mentally summons a field of diamonds before him. Natalie forms a ball of flames in her right palm. The Earth Master stands proud before the Elite Clergyman. "We're not running away. We're not backing down. And, trust me, it'd be smart of ya not to underestimate us. We're _much_ tougher than we look."

"We've come too far to run away from the likes of you", Father John's eyes glow with a crimson light.

"Too many lives were taken in the process", Father Yuvraj shines the steel of his blades at his opponent.

"And that's why…" Damien holds his hands forward, and summons his scythe of Crimson Matter into his grasp. He holds his weapon in a reared quarterstaff position, and prepares himself for battle. "…And that's why, we'll face you with everything we've got. Bishop Delouse…prepare yourself!"

"I see", the Elite Clergyman smiles upon the resiliency of his target. "Then allow me to grace you all…_with the beauty of an untimely death, by drowning you all in a crimson river of blood!_"

I don't know what's to become of this… I stand strong on faith, believing that they'll be all right. However, my heart's gravely troubled by their chances. Against an Elite Clergyman, the only one who stands a chance out there is Damien. 1 out of 5? Who would _dare_ to like those odds in this kind of situation? I'm scared… For the first time in years, I can actually say that I'm completely…_and utterly terrified!_

_Damn this cursed body of mine! Move… Goddamn you, I said move! Please…please…_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Opening Theme 2 – "Chikyuugi" by Matsuzawa Yumi)<em>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 23 <strong>– **Blood is on the Dance**_** _Floor_**

* * *

><p>The battlefield is quiet… Then again, that's how all critical encounters begin. The Bishop of the Church of the Red Moon stands before his challengers with daunting presence. A pool of blood spreads from his feet.<p>

"Still resorting to old tactics, are we?" questions the Head Mother of the assailant.

"Old tactics, you say? Trust me, Katherine, there's _nothing_ conventional about my power."

"Looks like the same attack pattern to me", seconds the confrontational Irishman.

"My, my...does your ignorance know no boundary?" laughs the Elite Clergyman, as spheres of lifeblood emerge from the pool at his feet. The opposing radicals become defensive, preparing themselves for any sudden movements. Bishop Delouse eyes them with a fierce glare! "Insensés (You fools)! You shall now witness how _frighteningly_ _unorthodox_ my existence truly is… **_Spread! Blood on the Dance Floor!_**"

His existence's full activation casts a crimson territory from his stationary frame… The spectral power contained within its boundaries is _staggering_! It's almost _parallel_ to the Count's supernatural muscle. Even at my distance from the battle, I can _still_ feel Blood on the Dance Floor's stinging aura.

"What kind of power is that?" questions the stunned Crusnik Lord.

"The kind with the ability to rule the world", Grandpa Frederic approaches the windows. Everyone pays close attention to the Protagonist, as he explains the nature of an Elite Clergyman. "A breed of vampire that sacrifices their morals and desires for the sake of the feed. In return for their demented obsessions, the Count rewards these people with _unimaginable_ power. That is the basis of an Elite Clergyman. I had the displeasure of facing one of the Elite, and it didn't go so well for me."

"Is there any hope for them?" I lower my head with sorrowful spirit. "Will…will they be all right, Grandpa Fred? Will they win this fight?"

"Stuart…I wish I could tell you 'yes', but I can't promise you anything."

"I was afraid you might say that", a tear falls from my right eye.

"Radicals, activate your existence!" Natalie's word rallies her team of heroes for action. Their territorial energies excite, exhausting a storm of spectral remnants from their combined frames. Their warcries light the evening skies of Rutherford with furious tone.**_ "Burn the masses! Wild Orchid!"_**

**_"Rot to the core! Green Day!"_**

**_"Open their eyes! Gates of Perception!"_**

**_"Time's up! Clockwork Orange!"_**

**_"Shine on! Crazy Diamond!"_**

**_"Embrace the afterlife! Crossroads!"_** the heroic sextet simultaneously activates their territories. The Bishop watches as their energies combine into a prismatic field. Their united bm expansion is well over 3000. That's enough bm to cover the area between headquarters and the edges of the downtown area. Since Rutherford's a very large city, the citizens are safe from harm. Damien changes into his normal Crusnik form in a flash of crimson currents, and aims the tang of his scythe at the hooded Frenchman. "I hope we didn't keep you waiting, Bishop Delouse. Let's begin this little dance with style, shall we?"

"Hmph! A typical eater – nothing but _mouth_", the Elite Clergyman snaps his right fingers, and causes his spheres of lifeblood to biologically transmute. The blood orbs quickly change into spiked chakrams. Natalie, Stephen, Theodore, Yuvraj, and John become antsy… Damien looks to his friends in confusion. The Bishop explains the nature of this technique. "You see that, Half-eater? Do you _see_ their alerted expressions? They _should_ be afraid. My chakrams are made of _the finest quality silver…_ I'm sure you've heard the legends; how silver _destroys_ the children of the night with one touch. It's the easiest way to kill vampires, werewolves, and apparitions."

"How can you create silver from your own blood?" shudders the Head Mother. Bishop Delouse laughs upon her anger. His contemptuous nature sets Natalie into a furious state. "What's so god-damned funny, you smoldering piece of horse shit?"

"Your surprised reaction tickled me. You, the leader of the Infinity Alliance, trembling at the sight of silver? I never imagined such a _manly_ woman would lose her nerve with such ease. Some leader."

"Don't you talk to my girlfriend like that!" Brother Theodore enrages, and summons a field of razor-sharp diamonds in front of his body. Bishop Delouse remains calm, as the Berserker unleashes his field of diamonds as a blinding volley. "Take this!**_ Diamond_ _Splash!__!_**"

"Useless!" the Bishop manipulates his silver chakrams using his mental energy, causing them to spin like a swarm of circular saws. The Elite Clergyman surrounds himself with his spinning chakrams, and easily protects himself from the Youth Minister's projectile… The diamonds are shredded into celluloid dust! The radicals are stunned, having never seen someone capable of breaking the Berserker's Diamond Splash. The Bishop laughs at their efforts. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! You won't defeat me with that level of attack. Now, allow me to show you the power of the Elite… **_Bloody Romance!_**"

The field of chakrams aggressively pursues the radicals! Damien takes to the sky upon his batwings, and the remainder of the heroic sextet ascends upon trajectories of airstreams. The spinning weapons of death chase after the airborne warriors… Stephen thinks strategically and expands his brambles from his right arm. Green Day surrounds the Irishman with a thick field of briars.

("I hope this works"), he comes to a halt and prepares himself for impact. The wave of chakrams crash into his field of briars… However, Stephen doesn't receive the results he was hoping for. The chakrams break through his briars in mere seconds, and the Earth Master's forced to evade the attack by flash-stepping to his right. Stephen looks over his shoulder, as he regenerates his brambles using his territorial energy. "I was afraid of that. Those things are made of silver, so defense is useless. We're _screwed_ if we get hit by those things."

"No kidding!" the Optic Master spins gracefully through the air with the greatest of ease, and evades the Bishop's chakrams by leaping from a bed of airstreams. John suddenly comes up with a plan. "Everyone, listen up. Lead these things into a single line. When that happens, Raj, freeze them with your your strongest Chronos Bind. The rest of us will attack these things with a synchronized energy blast."

"Do you think it will work?" Damien dodges a rising wave of chakrams by strafing forward.

"It's our only chance. These things can break through our defenses with ease, so let's take them out with a little offense. Ready..."

"Go!" Natalie curves her flight and ascends upward. Everyone else does the same thing. The Bishop's deadly trajectories pursue their fleeing targets with ruthless aggression. The heroic sextet closes in on each other in their ascension, and successfully leads the chakrams into a straight line… Natalie summons a field of flames around her body, as her team comes to a halt. The radicals look down to the approaching blades, and unleash a furious team attack. "Raj, do it now!"

"Okay! **_Chronos Bind: The_ _End!_**_**!**_" the Time Bender aims his right hand at the approaching wave of death. A massive wave of transparent orange energy spreads from his aimed palm, and locks the Bishop's Bloody Romance in the jaws of the time-space continuum! Raj preps his comrades for their next attack phase. "Alright, finish them off! Do it now!"

**_"Wake Up Fever!"_** the Head Mother shoots her right fist towards the frozen trajectory, and unleashes a monumental wave of flames from her knuckles.

**_"400-meter Radius D'Zirconia Special!"_** the Berserk aims his hands at the frozen wave of death, and unleashes a blinding wave of diamond threads from his palms.

**_"100% Optic Hurricane!"_** the Optic Master holds his diamond-poised hands in front of his line of vision, and blasts a colossal optical wave of ionic plasma at the frozen Bloody Romance.

**_"Ungrateful Dead: Omega Soul!"_** the Earth Master aims his hands at the frozen trajectory, and blasts a monstrous wave of glowing poison ivy leaves from his palms.

**_"Battle Dance 03…Unmerciful Kiss: Rest in Peace!"_** the Full-Blood Crusnik aims the tang of his scythe at the frozen Bloody Romance, and unleashes an enormous discharge of Crimson Matter currents.

The combination of ultimate attacks fuse, and create a falling pillar of prismatic light! The synchronized attack wave crashes into the frozen Bloody Romance, and incinerates them in a split second. The Bishop marvels at the power packed into the team's synced technique. The radicals descend to the ground upon trajectories of airstreams, as their energies subside… The Elite Clergyman folds his arms and remains calm, as his enemies land safely upon the courtyard grounds.

"You had us going there for a second, fella", smiles the arrogant Earth Master.

"We beat your crummy rings…" Damien holds his scythe in a reared quarterstaff form. "…Now, face us like a man! No more games!"

"Hmph…idiots…" snickers the Elite Clergyman.

"What did you call us?"

"Your efforts to stop my attack were impressive. But, you've only broken their 'solid form'."

"Solid form?" questions the stunned Time Bender.

"How do the Americans say it? Ah, yes – 'heads up'."

The radicals look to the skies… A rainstorm of blood falls from the sky! The heroic sextet is caught in the middle of it, and suffer the burns of its acidic composition! Their screams of pain light the skies of Rutherford with a frightening melody… My heart feels like it's going to stop… I'm torn between anger and sadness. I don't know which one to feel more than the other.

"Stop it…" pain-filled tears fall from my eyes.

_"AAH…!" Natalie and Theodore…their screams are ringing through my mind._

"Stop it…" I furiously grasp onto the armrests of my wheelchair.

_"AAH…!" John, Yuvraj…their roars of suffering are driving me insane._

"Stop it!" the anger inside of me…it's rising by the second.

_"AAH…!" Stephen…Damien…I WON'T HAVE THIS ANYMORE!_

**_"I SAID STOP IT, YOU BASTARD!" my existence excites furiously…with a gloomy aura of onyx light!_**

My friends cover their eyes and back away from me, protecting themselves from the sting of my awakening territory. The Bishop ceases his attack, feeling the emergence of an unimaginable power. My dark aura breaks through the northern walls of the meeting room, and causes an explosion! My beloved companions collapse to the ground in a loss of strength… The Elite Clergyman looks forward at the smoking fissure, and watches as a being of daunting power steps forward into the evening light. Damien pushes himself to his hands and knees, and looks upon the image…of me…as a black-winged angel of darkness, with midnight-colored eyes and violet insignia upon my exposed chest!

"How DARE you hurt my precious friends…you spineless piece of trash?" my black wings flutter, and release trajectories of midnight-colored feathers. The feathers storm forward like a swarm of angry wasps, and breeze past Damien's stationary frame… The Bishop panics, but manages to escape the feathers by leaping backwards. The Elite Clergyman lands on his feet, and looks forward to see me flying towards him with inhuman speed. "YOU WON'T GET AWAY! DIE, JEAN-CLAUDE!"

I close in on my target with mammoth force, and smash him in the left jaw with a bone-shattering flying right straight! Bishop Delouse is _rocketed_ away by my mêlée attack, crashes into the ground and rolls across the courtyard uncontrollably… He comes to a halt upon his back, but is instantly throttled by a strong right hand. The Elite Clergyman opens his eyes, and sees my foreboding image towering above him.

"Im…possible…" I lift the Bishop off of the ground with my right hand. He clutches onto my arm, attempting to free himself of my grip. The Elite Clergyman looks down to me with furious eyes. "…You…cursed dhampir brat… How dare you try to overpower me!"

"A man that hides his face behind a hood has no room to call me names", the remainder of my companions are able to rise to their hands and knees. Everyone observes my nightmarish image – a merciless angel of darkness. They can't believe what they're seeing… I ball my left fist, preparing myself to execute the Bishop of the Church with a single blow. "If you think I'll let you live after what you've done to my friends…to my fiancé…you're sadly mistaken... You deserve _nothing_ but the darkest depths  
>of hell. Allow me to send you there…PERSONALLY!"<p>

I shoot my left fist forward, and drive my entire arm through the Bishop's heart! Blood taints the courtyard… I pull my arm out of the Elite Clergyman's chest, and drop him to the ground with cold gesture. A breeze of fate brushes across the terrain, as I turn my back to the fallen assailant.

"Do you really think it's over?" the Bishop's voice sounds vital and unharmed. I look over my shoulder at the Elite Clergyman, as he rises to his feet with little effort. I turn around and face him with a furious glare. His chest wound heals in seconds… This must be a portion of the great power bestowed upon one of the Elite. Bishop Delouse rubs his chest with his right hand, and laughs at the transpired events. "Heh-heh-heh! Impressionnant, Ange du Soleil (Impressive, Angel of the Sun)… But, what happened to your sunlit aura? You're darker than a moonless night sky. Don't tell you've gone and… Yes, you did… You've invoked _the Twilight Soul_."

"Did he say the…?" fearfully shudders the Head Mother.

"...Twilight…Soul?" Damien stands to his feet, worried about the nature of such a fearsome power.

"Hmph…I _like_ the sound of that title", I smile with bloodthirsty expression.

I hold my bloodied right arm to my lips, and lick the plasma from my fingers. An onyx light shines from my eyes, as I reveal a set of ravenous fangs. The Bishop is psyched by my stare… My image fades away in a breeze of black feathers… The Elite Clergyman panics, for he senses my territorial energies at _every_ corner of the area. My comrades look around the courtyard, wondering where I could've ran off to.

("Stuart…where did you go?") my fiancé suddenly feels the emergence of a strong wind at his back. He freezes in place… I place my arms around my lover's shoulders, causing him to look up to my ominous frame. I furiously gaze at the Bishop; my eyes refuse to stray away from his disgusting sight. ("The Twilight Soul… I don't like this form... It's…scary. It's like the Paradise Angel, but covered in the deepest of darkness. Oh good god, what's happened to my beloved Stuart? Why does he look like this?")

"I don't know why you're so humored by this, Jean-Claude", I release my fiancé and fade into a breeze of black feathers. I then reappear behind the Bishop, and grab onto his throat with my left hand. He doesn't move, and retains a confident leer. To smite him, I reveal a frightening revelation. "One of my feathers is implanted inside of your body…and you only have a few seconds left to live."

His mode of confidence is shattered by a throbbing pain in his chest! I toss the smug Elite Clergyman to the ground, and leave him there to suffer. The Bishop's skin begins to change color… It's darkening by the second. His image of suffering brings laughter to my dark soul.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…! You see how it feels? Do you like the sensation of a melting heart? That's how my friends' skin felt when you rained your _filthy_ blood on them. Allow me explain the nature of your death as it occurs… First, your body will give out starting with your legs, then your torso. After that, the effects will stretch up to your neck, and then to your head. Before you know it, your entire body will _decay_ from the inside."

"Malé…diction (Curse…you)!" the Bishop coughs up a pool of blood, and collapses onto the ground.

"As a token to your memory, I shall cast your soul to the afterlife in your native tongue", I turn my back to the fallen assailant, and walk away from the pathetic sight. In my departure, I deliver my final message with resentful tone. "Repose en paix, salope (Rest in peace, bitch)."

"Did he just…defeat an Elite Clergyman?" gasps Grandpa Christopher.

"No, he didn't", differs his father.

"You mean…that S.O.B.'s still alive?"

"More than that, son… I think he's…"

"I can feel it, too", Father Andrew steps forward, feeling a strong increase in power from the fallen Bishop. The Elite Clergyman rises to his feet, once again…but this time, with a _monstrous_ crimson aura circulating form his injured frame. The radicals are finding it hard to hold up their defenses against such a terrifying surge of power. "What…the hell is this…? He was dead a second ago…"

"…But now, this monster's two-times stronger than before", Mother Wendy covers his eyes, protecting her vision from the Elite Clergyman's monumental aura. The area's beginning to quake… Even _I'm_ beginning to feel the sting of the Bishop's aura. The Mother Superior, and everyone in the damaged meeting hall is prostrated to their knees by Jean-Claude's massive territory. Mother Wendy sees a grim fate at hand. ("He's too strong… If they don't do something soon, we're all done for. Stuart, please, awaken your true power… This isn't you. You're not the darkness, you're the light. Open your eyes, boy... Please, open your eyes!")

* * *

><p>"The Twilight Soul…" the Count gazes into the pier glass between the southern windows of his study. Using the power of his existence, Dirty Diana, he's able to project an image of the battle at Infinity HQ. He sees it… He sees me as a being of <em>unimaginable darkness; a form that is the complete <em>opposite of the Paradise Angel. The Master Vampire places his hands on the pier-glass frame with covetous gesture. "…A darkness that's blacker than a moonless night sky. It's…beautiful. In this form, his power is parallel to my own… Stuart, my precious descendant…this is the power of <em>a <em>god. You know not the manner of authority you hold in the palm of your hands. Stuart, you could very well be…"<em>___

"Otōsan (Father)…" the childlike Heir graces his father's presence. Brother Johnny approaches his father, and cradles against him. He notices the picture on his father's pier glass. "…Otōsan (Father), what are you looking at? Why're there people inside of your mirror?"

"This is a little trick I learned from a gypsy named Shanice. It's called 'psychographic transmission'. Right now, I'm watching your cousin and his friends have a little fun with the Bishop."

"You mean...Stuart-kun…is fighting that French guy?"

"Yes, he is. Your Cousin Stuart's quite the remarkable young man."

"Otōsan (Father), is the Bishop going to hurt him?"

"That's what happens in battles, my son", Count Valdo embraces his heir with warm arms.

Brother Johnny, despite being under his father's spell, still possesses some manner of a heart. The Lord of the Night acknowledges the depth of his son's emotional resolve…_by infusing him with more darkness. The kindhearted Kyonshī 's eyes become blacker than the blackest pitch. His father's power settles into his spirit, as the blackness covering his eyes fades away._

"How are you feeling now, son?" questions the Master Vampire of his heir.

"Boku wa genkidesu, otōsan (I'm just fine, father)."

"How charming. My son's speaking to me in Japanese…just like his mother."

"Otōsan…daisukidesu (Father…I love you)", the Heir's affections bring a smile to his father's face.

"And father loves you too, my son. Now, let us feast our eyes upon a grand spectacle. Cousin Stuart's about to get serious. I can feel it… He's developed the desire to _kill the Bishop."_

Meanwhile, my friends and I are standing face-to-face with a being of uncanny spectral fortitude… It feels like we're standing in the midst of a god of death; an entity of unmatched supremacy. Even after impaling his heart, and rotting him from the inside…Bishop Delouse is _still_ standing. Only this time, he's twice as strong as when he stood against my friends. Despite this, for some strange reason…I'm not afraid of him.

How can one not cower before such supernatural authority? Why am I not running away? I can feel it – I can feel that he's _more_ than capable of killing me… Bishop Delouse can _obliterate_ me and everyone else around him… So, why? Why am I not afraid of this man?

"Bravo, mon ami (my love)", applauds the Elite Clergyman. His disrespectful character nips at my patience. However, I refuse to show any signs of displeasure. Bishop Delouse folds his arms, and approaches me with daunting stride. "However, you've misjudged my existence. Blood on the Dance Floor gives me the power of _regeneration_. No matter how many times you impale or poison my body, it won't work. I'll rise again and again…with more and _more_ power. This is the blessing of Le Comte (The Count). I am a god… I am everything, and there's nothing you can do to stop me with such meager efforts."

"A typical power-whore – _blah-blah, 'I'm stronger than you' yakkity-smack_", my arrogant verse sends a wave of resentment through the assailant's spirit. I smile upon my pursuer's anger. "I take it my words have hurt your little feelings. You're pretty weak when it comes to your emotions. Here's an idea: Why not unleash that anger on me? I can give you a few free hits, but you have to catch me first."

"Don't toy with me, you imbécile arrogant (arrogant fool)!" roars the Elite Clergyman, before flash-stepping towards me with godlike speed. He reappears in front of me, and rears his right fist for a bone-crushing punch to my jaw. However, I perform a flash-step of my own, and reappear in the air above him at his rear. Bishop Delouse looks up to me, and notices that I'm pursuing his grounded body with a missile dropkick. He flash-steps in time to escape the devastating impact of my attack! The Elite Clergyman reappears inches away from me, and watches as the terrain shatters into a wide crater… Bishop Delouse is _stunned_ my level of physical fortitude. "He's just as physically strong as…Comte (Count) Valdo. Stuart, where did you find such strength?"

"When you piss someone like me off, things tend to get…_a little scary_. I know this isn't enough power to kill you, but at least we're having fun. There's nothing like a good game of 'cat-and-mouse'. In this situation, you're the hungry little _pussy_ that's trying to catch me. However, I'm the _resilient_ type – I'm a rodent who comes packing _an ass-load of guns_. If you don't catch me soon, you're going to be one _dead_ little fuzzball. I'll give you one minute to hit me… How does that sound?"

"How _dare_ you act high-and-mighty with me, you abomination!" the Bishop flash-steps past me, and reappears at my rear. He then blasts trajectories of lifeblood from his existence, attempting to impale me in numerous areas of my body. I invoke the power of the Twilight Soul, and surround myself with an impenetrable field of ebony feathers. Despite their fragile appearance, the territorial power contained within them is enough to defend against a swarm of _cannonballs_. The Elite Clergyman is psyched by my unbreakable defenses. "Quelle est cette magie (What wizardry is this)? …How dare you… I'll show you! **_Inelegant Tourniquet!_**"

The Bishop's spectral trajectories fuse, and encircle my body with a band of acidic plasma! The lethal layers of blood squeeze against my barrier's framing… The Elite Clergyman believes victory is near. Everyone panics, wondering if I'm faring well inside of such a deadly prison of ethereal energy.

"Stuart…" my fiancé holds his heart, fighting his tears with the entirety of his being. Damien's anger is rising… His Crusnik blood is beginning to excite. "Let him go… You hear me? I said let him go!"

"Tais-toi, mon garçon (Shut up, boy)!" the Bishop excites his territorial energies, and casts a wave of lifeblood towards my boy's stationary frame… However, the unexpected occurs. Stephen stands from the ground, runs in front of Damien, and shields him using a thick wall of rose petals from his existence. Everyone is _amazed_ by his platonic valor and unbreakable courage. "Well, well, well. The Master of the Green Day Briars has finally lost his mind. What, you think your friendship with that boy's strong enough to withstand my attack?"

"Damn you…**_Deadhead!_**" the Earth Master gathers his rose petals into a blossomed flower cup. Blood on the Dance Floor's lifeblood is being absorbed by Stephen's counteroffensive technique. Bishop Delouse laughs at the tenacious Irishman for his efforts. Stephen stands strong on his platonic affections. "Don't laugh! There's nothing funny about how I feel… This is real. It's not a game. Stuart and Damien are going to get married. I'll make sure of that, even if it's the last thing I do! I won't let you hurt this little kitten anymore… When I fell victim to your attack, my entire heart broke in half! Their screams… I don't like hearing my friends suffer! Stu, if you can hear me, get out of there! Wake up, say something, anything! Damien's crying… You're scaring him, fella! This isn't you… You're not the darkness, man! You won't defeat him like this… Let us help you!"

"Stop whining, you ejaculated sack of horse turds!" my voice stuns everyone in the area. It sounds vital and full of mirth, unscathed and joyful… The Bishop's Inelegant Tourniquet evaporates from my body, revealing that I'm still at 100% health. The Elite Clergyman is somehow injured by my counterattack, and falls to his knees in a loss of leg strength. I turn on my heel, as Stephen passes out from overexerting himself… Natalie, Yuvraj, John, and Theodore run to his aid; however, Damien walks forward and joins me at my side. I place my left arm around his shoulders, and acknowledge his anger. "Looks like you've just placed my fiancé in a foul mood, Jean-Claude. That wasn't a very healthy thing to do…for you, at least."

"What…did you…do to me?" the Bishop struggles to stand to his feet… He manages to stand, but his posture's sloppy and fatigued. The Elite Clergyman ogles us with furious eyes. "You…! How dare you not answer me when I'm speaking to you! I asked you what you've done to me! Talk, now!"

"My, aren't you the explosive type. Very well, I'll explain it for you… An existence is linked with a vampire's blood; a biological power that not only governs a vampire's level of supernatural muscle, but also their lifespan. Vampires can exist for an eternity, but once their existence wears out… Their bodies begin to fade away."

"What…?" the Bishop shudders, stunned by my revelation.

"You said earlier that you're 'a god'. Well, the only 'god' I know is omnipotent, and exists only in the heavens. He is an immortal being of holiness that governs the lives of everyone on this planet, even the undead. I feel _foolish_ for resorting to such dark power, but I guess that's what happens when I lose _all_ manner of patience. In honor of the one TRUE god, I will shed myself of this demonic form… I want to fight at the side of my boy…_as an angel_… Damien, let's invoke the full extent of our power…together."

"Yes…let's do that, Stuey", agrees my boy, as the Twilight Soul subsides…and I am reduced to my normal form. Damien and I look upon the Bishop with ferocious eyes! He steps back once, feeling a massive increase in our territorial energies! Our auras excite, and manifest themselves with epic brilliance. Bishop Delouse covers his eyes, feeling the piercing sensation…of the love Damien and I have for one another. "Our friends… They've been here with us from the very beginning. Together, we've conquered the bloodthirsty giants of the Church. But now, we're faced with an even more powerful set of giants… You, one of their band, have proven their might. However, against the love that _we_ share, your power means absolutely nothing… Prepare to taste the bitter flavor of defeat, you heartless, bloodsucking terrorist!"

"Do you think we're just going to let _you_ two have all the fun?" the Head Mother's voice alerts us. We feel the hands of our friends touching our backs. Natalie, Theodore, Yuvraj, Stephen, and John… They're standing with us. What a bunch of stubborn old fools… They're resilient to the very end. "This isn't just your fight. You two can be so selfish sometimes; always having the fun, while we sit back and watch. Why not let your elders help you out?"

"Yes, the least we can do is lend you our power", Theodore seconds.

"Remember, you're our frontline", thirds John.

Yuvraj nods in agreement, "That's right. It's up to you two to defeat him."

"So, in order to fight with you…" begins the emotional Stephen, as his existence burns brightly with the remainder of our elders. They close their eyes to synchronize their energies with us. Damien and I can feel them… We can feel our friends' life energies coursing through our veins. Their voices resonate within our hearts. "…In order to fight with you, we'll become one with you. We love you little pups…with all that we are. Stu, Day-Day, at times…I feel like a _father_ when I'm around you two. I wouldn't trade you lads for anything in the world. That's real… It's damn real, fellas."

"You've made my life worth living", confesses the Optic Master. We're brought to tears by the emotions of our comrades. John places his right hand over his heart. "Even though I'm _miles_ away from my girlfriend, and my unborn son, I feel at home with all of you. This has been the _greatest_ month of my life… I thank God for giving me a second chance. I'm putting a lot of trust in you two; you, the godfathers of my unborn son, James. Win, you two…so he can see your faces when he's born."

"It's funny how we became friends…" laughs the Time Bender. Raj's heart remembers how it all started, when I faced him on the airplane flight to Europe. He reflects on our journey, and where it's brought us relationship-wise. "…Stuart, you've blossomed quite a bit. And, at the same time, so did your beloved fiancé. I enjoy being with all of you. It's…it's a lot of fun. Though my heart is broken, because I'm miles and miles away from my love, your smiles regenerate its broken fragments. Stuart, Damien, become the wolf that stands before the mischievous fox…and save your pack…just like my vision predicted. We're counting on you, my friends."

"God is an awesome god, is he not?" smiles the Berserker. Theodore confesses the admiration he feels for us, with fluid verse. "When we met in FCW, I was a little shy at first. I wasn't used to same-sex couples, but I actually learned how to accept them by observing you guys. When I watch how the two of you love each other, I actually learn things about my own relationship. I'm not the most talented when it comes to romance… So, you two are like role models for me. Now, let's see that love of yours shine. Shine on…like a diamond."

"TJ's absolutely right", weeps the joyful Head Mother. Natalie confesses the secrets of her heart, and the basis of the love she's developed for us. "When my first marriage failed, I lost all manner of love for men. Frederic, Maribel, Alexander, and Andrew helped me by suggesting the invention of the Infinity Alliance. TJ showed me how to love once again, but it was _you_ who helped me to perfect it. Our relationship is stronger than ever because of you two, and I enjoy your company. You truly are the sun and the moon – the golden morning light, and the sparkling evening star… Stuart, Damien, become a light for the world! Awaken your true power!"

Their love…their feelings… When combined as one, just like in the past, we're a force to be reckoned with. Stephen's charity. John's trust. Yuvraj's friendship. Theodore's admiration. Natalie's devotion… This is the power that our friends have given to us. It's filling our spirit with a vibrant light… The words are coming to us. These words will awaken our true potential. Damien and I lift our hands to the sky, and invoke the power of the two heavenly bodies of light.

_I quote the words of my shining heart, "Heed me, thou who is brighter than the stars. Heed me, thou who graces the planet with vibrant splendor. Shower me with your essence, freeing me of the bonds of this world. I summon the armor of the gods, which graces the earth with eternal light. I beg you, grant me full control of the heavens, to send all the fools before us to eternal rest. Light of the heavens, let us become one!"_

_Damien does the same, and quotes the words of his lustrous spirit, "Silver-colored soul of the night, ivory king of the evening sky, I beseech you. Awaken, oh mighty thunders of my spirit, to aid me in the burial of the enemy that stands before us. Let all those that oppose our power feel the lethal sting of our bond. I release you, freeing you of the chains that bind you with silence. Come forth, my uncanny soul! Shine brighter than the eye of the universe!"_

"Inconceivable…!" the Bishop is knocked to the ground by the intensity our shining territories.

I resound the name of my true power with righteous tone, **_"Now – Paradise Angel, Materialize!"_**

**_"Change – Moonlight Envoy, Materialize!"_** virtuously roars my boy, before our territorial auras pierce the sky as a pillar of silver and golden brilliance.

Our friends watching from the meeting room are at a loss of words… They've never seen such a _beautiful_ territory. Natalie, Stephen, John, Yuvraj, and Theodore become one with our spirits… Damien's existence transforms him into a silver-colored angel with a flowing mane of silver curls, and a silver mask across his eyes. My existence transforms me into my angelic form, but I too develop a mask over my eyes, made from gold.

Our tops are dematerialized by our combined existences, as our muscular compositions double. Golden insignias of an unknown holy language appear on my chest; the same happens for Damien, but his markings are silver in color. Wings of moonlight expand from Damien's upper back, and sunlit wings expand from mine. Damien's forearms are decorated with bracers made of the finest silver. My forearms are donned with gauntlets of the purest gold. We open our eyes, and reveal the glow of our empowered existences.

"They actually did it…" Mary Victoria cups her hands, amazed by the power that we've unlocked.

"…Where can I get one of those?" jests Brother Heath.

"I don't think that's anything you can buy, pelirrojo (redhead)", fascinates Father Jorge.

"The sun…and the moon…" Stephanie's brought to tears. Her husband places his left arm around her waist, comforting his wife in her emotional state. "…They're so _beautiful_. I can feel the love flowing through their hearts. It's because of all of us…their friends…the innocent people of the world… They found this power…because they want to see the happiness of _all_ living and nonliving creatures. If there was ever a doubt in my heart before…it's gone now. It's faded away."

"It's like a dream…" Paul seconds. Everyone feels the amorous strength of our power rushing through their spirit. In a way…they feel closer to God, as they continue to behold our magnificent glow. "Angels of heaven have graced us with their presence. I feel like I've been blessed from witnessing this amazing transformation. They have the power to do it… These kids have what it takes to defeat the Count. With a love like that…even the devil would prostrate himself, and beg for forgiveness… Now, let's see what '_an Elite Clergyman'_ can do to stop something like this."

* * *

><p>In Manson, Ms. Houston is currently tending to some late-summer studies for her junior year. As the most studious member of her class, her dream is to become the valedictorian of Brian H. Warner Senior High School, and further her education by attending a prestigious university. Her dream is to become a renowned administrator of education, and she'll prove her right to hold the chair by starting as a 3rd grade teacher. Finally, she'll work her way to being the superintendent of an entire district. After donating her time to her district for a couple of years, Ms. Houston will retire and enjoy the fruits of her seniority. This young lady is an inspiration to her peers, and her determination proves that she's <em>more<em> than capable of achieving her dream.

She looks out her bedroom window, fantasizing about her lustrous future… The student's attention is suddenly grasped by a phenomenal sight! In the distance, she can see it – the territorial pillar rising from the courtyard of Infinity HQ.

("Oh…my…god…") Ms. Houston stands from her chair, leaves her bedroom, hurries downstairs, and rushes to the front door. Mr. Houston opens the front door, and gazes dreamingly at the amazing spectacle of power. Her loving aunt notices how frantic the young lady's behaving. The elderly family member joins her niece, and beholds the image of the pillar of light in the distance. "Auntie Dionne, do you see that? It's my friends… They're fighting another battle, and it looks intense."

"Your friends, you say?"

"Yes, my friends. I met them in Aldington, and they saved me from a very bad man."

"How can you tell it's them, dear?" giggles the elderly family member.

"I can feel them…" Ms. Houston cups her hands over her heart. She remembers our faces and the things we've done for her; how we protected her from danger, and became her irreplaceable friends. Ms. Houston remembers how the Rolling Stones made her brother feel happy, and brought warmth to her heart. She knows, for sure, that we're in the midst of an epic battle. Ms. Houston believes in us… She believes in the power of our friendship. The young lady cheers us on from her distance away from the battle. "Stuart, Damien, everyone…you can do it! Don't let those jerks beat you! Fight on! Fight on! Fight on…!"

In Barcelona, Spain, the presence of our territory reaches the heart of Brother N'Dour. He's currently standing on the rooftops of the Halfway House. His spirit feels a strong power circulating in the distance. It's an energy filled with overflowing love and affection… The Apprentice folds his arms, and smiles.

("It's them…Stuart and Damien"), he already knows the truth about this power. Brother N'Dour recognizes the intensity of such adoration. We're the only couple he knows that possesses such an overwhelming level of passion. ("I guess it's too late for me… I can't interfere with a love like that. It's true, I have a crush on Damien, but that's all it really is. If the love they share is _that_ strong, then who am I to separate it? No one… I'm just glad that we're friends. I hope I find a love that strong…someday.")

"Your heart is very gloomy and sad, joven (young man)", a strong, masculine Latino accent freezes the Apprentice in place. A set of strong arms embrace him around his midsection. Brother N'Dour turns around, and looks up to the image of a hooded stranger. He recognizes this image – this daunting stranger is a member of the Church of the Red Moon. "I like hearts like that; sadness, gloom, anguish, and suffering are the most…_adorable_ of emotions to me. Perhaps I, the new Cardinal of the Church, can help fill the void in your lovely soul… Déjame amarte, muchacho (Let me love you, boy)."

"But, I thought the Cardinal was…Niccolò Giuliani. Who the heck are you?"

"My name…is Evandro Miguel Esencia. I was next in line to become the Cardinal, so El Conde (The Count) took the liberty of giving me Niccolò's spot. My existence allows me to feel the emotions of the brokenhearted. So, please, come with me. I know how to relieve you of your pain…in _more_ ways than one."

"Are you kidding me?" Brother N'Dour pushes away from the Cardinal, knowing how deceptive the Church can be. Cardinal Evandro smiles upon the Apprentice's knowledge of his people. "Why would I go _anywhere_ with the likes of you? I'm not dealing with you disgusting Clergymen, so leave me alone!"

"I'm not just any ordinary Clergyman, mi amigo (my friend). I'm one of the Elite. As one of our former Gideonites, you should be well aware of the fact that there's more than one class in the Church. But, due to the _brainwashing_ of those disgusting radicales (radicals), you've lost your memories."

"Memories? What are you talking about?"

"I'll save the truth for later, but now…" the Cardinal flash-steps, and reappears behind Brother N'Dour. The Apprentice is frozen in place by overwhelming fear… The hooded ecclesiast's cloak animates and elongates! The white draping encircles Brother N'Dour, and translocates his body to an unknown location. Cardinal Evandro's cloak returns to normal, as a venomous smile decorates his obscured profile. "…But now, we wait for Jean-Claude to awaken his _true_ power. Those enamorados estúpidos (stupid lovebirds) don't know who they're dealing with…_nor_ the level of power they're up against. It's only a matter of time…before Jean-Claude unleashes…el monstruo en su interior (the monster within)!"

"Mathews, did you feel that?" Josh and Michael are attending a daily workout class with a group of refugees. Michael stops exercising, feeling the wave of our existence. Everyone in the courtyard, and several other refugees from the Halfway House, gather to look upon the pillar of energy in the distance. From their standpoint, the pillar looks like a slim trajectory of light that pierces the sky. Verbal as ever, Michael voices his opinion. "Um, is that a light shooting up through the clouds? It looks…really pretty."

"How perceptive of you…idiot", Josh snickers.

"Not right now, Mathews. I've never felt anything like this before in my _entire_ life… It feels like…"

"Like God's love is spreading across the entire planet", Michael looks to his coworker with an agreeing smile. The young commentator folds his arms with proud expression. "There's no doubt about it. Stuart, Damien, and their crew have become one. Their union has strengthened their strength a hundredfold, and they're now more powerful than any existence user. More powerful than any vampire… It's like they're…"

"…Heaven-sent angels. Man, this makes our working environment look like a schoolyard playground."

"You're starting to sound like Booker", Josh smiles.

"Yeah, but I'm _ten-times_ better than that goofball", Michael smugly declares. Josh shakes his head at how arrogant his senior partner can be. "I wonder if he's all right. It's been a while since we last saw him."

"Knowing him, he's doing just fine… We'll see him again, someday."

"What makes you so sure about that, kid?"

"I just know…" the young color-commentator balls his right fist, standing strong on his faith. He holds his fist to his line of vision, and speaks metaphorically. "…The bond between us is like a rock in the midst of raging rapids. Despite the Church's efforts to drag us through its drowning torrents, we remain standing. Everyone will unite again. I just know it… My heart refuses to believe otherwise."

"Well…that sure was sappy", laughs the heel commentator.

"I was trying to be serious, you bonehead!" for the first time ever, Josh loses his patience and sends Michael rocketing into the sky with a monstrous punt to the rear!

"I WAS JUST KIDDING…!" screams the arrogant senior partner, as he disappears into the evening skies.

"Hmph! That's the _last_ time I try to sympathize with you, ya stocky-ass prick!" Josh folds his arms with a jaw full of hot air… His anger eventually subsides. He then turns his attention to the pillar of light in the distance. With his heart set on a positive future, the young commentator retains his platonic resolve. ("We'll reunite again. When it's all over, we'll all be back together. I pray to God for your safety. Everyone…fight on!")

In Moldavia, the Count marvels at the psychographic image transmitted by his pier glass. His heir, Brother Johnny, stands at his side with youthful mirth. He should be angry… The Lord of the Night should be _enraged_ beyond belief… But, oddly enough, the Master Vampire's feeling the complete opposite of anger. What he sees makes him happy… To pay witness the level of power that I've unlocked is nothing short of moving to the Count.

"Johannes…I can't _wait_ to finally meet your cousin", declares the Lord of the Night.

"Why is that?" questions the childlike Heir.

"Look at him… Look at _both_ of them; Stuart and Damien are _magnificent_. A power like that could be a great benefit the Church's cause. With it, we could become _invincible_. The entire _world_ will bow to us, worship us and _adore_ us. Yes… Yes, not only do I plan on using Damien to regain my power, but I will also make those two _valued_ members of my army… How does that sound, my son? Would you like to have them at your side?"

"Hai, otōsan (Yes, father)!" excites the lighthearted Kyonshī. Brother Johnny hops forward and places his hands on the frame of his father's pier glass. "Stuart-kun, Damien-chan…I want to play with you. Hurry up and come to my home, so we can play forever. Beat the Bishop and come play with me, itoko-tachi (cousins)!"

"My son…such a _loving_ young man", smiles the Count with a devilish leer.

* * *

><p>The pillar of light that pierces the sky subsides… Damien and I now stand alone against the injured Elite Clergyman. Bishop Delouse smiles upon our efforts. Even when he's at his last straw, the coldblooded assailant has a smug expression planted on his veiled face.<p>

"Find something funny, Jean-Claude?" my question tickles the Bishop. What a cocky little bastard! He's _twice_ as annoying as Darren was in Willington. "I guess something has made you laugh. So, what are you tittering about, you _arrogant_ son-of-a-bitch?"

"Pardonnez-moi, Ange du Soleil (Forgive me, Angel of the Sun)", Bishop Delouse stands straight, revealing the advanced regenerative ability of his healing factor. We remain calm in the face of the enemy. The Elite Clergyman arouses his existence, surrounding himself with his crimson territorial aura… We then feel his power level rising to mammoth proportions… By Jove! It's just as strong as our own… Regardless of this, we retain our composure. An existence also reacts to one's emotional state; Yuvraj made that very clear to me in the past… If we become scared, it's all over. No matter how powerful our enemy may be, we must remain strong of heart. We must be brave. "I apologize for not transforming into my true state when you upgraded to your angel forms. So, to make this a fair fight…_I will grace to you the unimaginable power of the Elite!_"

"As you wish, Mr. Delouse", Damien smiles with sardonic tone.

The Bishop's territorial aura shines brightly! It's composition grows…and grows…and grows... Damien and I look upon the image of what appears to be a spectral upgrading. But, for some strange reason, it feels as if… Something _dreadful_ is happening to the Bishop's soul!

"RAAAAAA…!" his territorial energy's piercing the skies with crimson light. Bishop Delouse's body goes through a frightening method of transmogrification… His physical composition mutates, and grows to mammoth heights and lengths! His skin is covered with crimson-colored reptilian scales… His arms and legs become like that of a large lizard… A long, reptilian tail grows from his lower back… Fleshy wings of massive proportions stretch from his upper back… His neck elongates, and his head becomes like that of a horned beast… His teeth mutates into rows of carnivorous fangs… His eyes become redder than the finest satin… The Bishop now stands 50-feet above ground level…_as a red dragon!_ His beastly roar sounds throughout the land! **_"RAAAAAAA…!"_**

"Oh my god, what the hell?" our friends are terrified by the Bishop's true form. As the Elite Clergyman's territorial aura seeps back into his body, Sister Eve takes a step forward. She's heard legends of this creature from the elders of the Donna Tribe. Her revelation captures the attention of her comrades. "Bishop Delouse…is a Crimson Blood Dragon?"

"Crimson Blood Dragon?" questions the Cyber-technologist. "Where did you get that from, kiddo?"

"This is no time for fairytales, Sister", seconds the beautiful Vestal.

"This is no fairytale, trust me!" the Combat Specialist's explanation sends a chill of concern through her mass of fellow radicals. Sister Eve's worried for our safety. It's true – according to legend, this winged colossus reigns as _the_ _most_ _powerful_ creature of the sky. Our chances of defeating each other have now been leveled… The future maid of honor pours her heart out to us. "The mythic lord of the sky said to be the strongest dragon of all… The Count gave the Bishop that kind of power? This is…this is just crazy! Oh god, Stuart, Damien, that thing's wicked strong! Be careful, or the Bishop will kill you both!"

"He doesn't scare us, Eve!" Damien's stern voice silences the Amazoness's tears. Our friends pay close attention to us, as we display our resolve with vibrant tone. "We're not out here alone. Natalie, Stephen, Theodore, Yuvraj, and John are with us. We've gone through _much_ worse; lizards and snakes are the least of our worries. As a Donna, you should have a little more faith, Eve… All of you should."

"The Bishop hasn't become more powerful", I declare, after feeling the grave change in our enemy's spectral composition. Bishop Delouse lowers his beastly head, and looks at us with his monstrous crimson eyes. His reaction brings a smile to my face. "He's burning the entirety of his existence… It's not enough to kill him, but it'll leave him with _only 1%_ of his power. If he fails, he'll be paralyzed for a couple of months to a year, _unless_ the Count decides to cut him some slack… This truly is your _last_ attack, Jean-Claude. How does it feel to continuously fight for a genocidal madman? Feel bold enough to walk with your chest out, lizard boy?"

"Once again, you misjudge the power of my existence, Ange du Soleil (Angel of the Sun)", laughs the mythic dragon with a deep and mountainous voice. The Crimson Blood Dragon's eyes widen, and glow with a bright red light. "I will savor the taste of your blood, as your fleshly bodies crunch to pieces in my jaws. You may be angels, but you are _nothing_ against the power of a dragon. Stuart Bennett, Damien Crosse…PREPARE TO DIE!"

"We're not afraid of you…" I approach the dragon with daunting stride.

"…You are the darkness, we are the light…" Damien follows me with intimidating character.

"…The world is counting on us…"

"…Our friends believe in us…"

"…The people, and all of God's creatures desire a peace world…" I come to a halt just steps away from the mythical creature. I look up to the Bishop with a furious golden glow emitting from my eyes. "…They want to live as one, not separate. You people of the Church have a hard time understanding that."

"That is why we, the Infinity Radicals, stand up to you…" Damien arrives and stands at my right side. He looks up to the monstrous dragon with a righteous silver glow shining from his eyes. "…We've seen worse, like the Copa Cabana Incident. Those people were a civilization that desired the same things we do today. They wanted freedom… You call yourselves 'clergymen', but you're _far_ from being holy in any form or fashion. So, that's why…"

"…In the name of God and the future of this world…"

"…YOU WILL KNOW YOUR PLACE!" our territorial auras shine vibrantly.

We take flight upon shining wings of light. The Bishop feels our power levels rising by the second! However, he stands strong against us, and prepares himself for the first attack. Even with our spectral energies at this level, we could very well be _annihilated_ by the Elite Clergyman. Two angels of light…engaging in battle with the crimson-colored beast king of the sky.

Who will win this epic battle?

Will the world be safe for a season?

Or, will the Church's tyranny begin anew?

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed continues…_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Ending Theme <em>–<em> "Colors" by Utada Hikaru)_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Up Next: BLOODNight Finale _–_ Send Me an Angel)_**


	25. Series 1 Finale: Send Me an Angel

An invitation to chaos… When I first embarked on this journey, those words lingered quietly in my heart. I never spoke of them, hoping that everything would be okay. As my fiancé and I stand proudly against the crimson-colored beast king of the sky, it feels as if my wish… No, I know _for sure_ that my wish will be granted… The power given to us by God, manifested from the love of our friends – the Paradise Angel and the Moonlight Envoy. With it, we will engage in an epic struggle to break the first link of the Church's chain of tyranny.

Stephen, Natalie, Theodore, Yuvraj, John… You've been through so much with us, and you're still here standing with us. Not only that… You're now one with us. You donated your life force, your existence and everything that you are to us. We thank God for friends like you. Though you may have struggled and failed, you still stood back up and fought with us. Because of your unyielding friendship, a power that comes from God's heart, we now stand a fighting chance…even against a legendary Crimson Blood Dragon.

The transmogrified Bishop's eyes widen, and glow with a bright red light, "I will savor the taste of your blood, as your fleshly bodies crunch to pieces in my jaws. You may be angels, but you are nothing against the power of a dragon. Stuart Bennett, Damien Crosse…PREPARE TO DIE!"

"We're not afraid of you…" I approach the dragon with daunting stride.

"…You are the darkness, we are the light…" Damien follows me with intimidating character.

"…The world is counting on us…"

"…Our friends believe in us…"

"…The people, and all of God's creatures desire a peaceful world…" I come to a halt just steps away from the mythical creature. I look up to the Bishop with a furious golden glow emitting from my eyes. "…They want to live as one, not separate. You people of the Church have a hard time understanding that."

"That is why we, the Infinity Radicals, stand up to you…" Damien arrives and stands at my right side. He looks up to the monstrous dragon with a righteous silver glow shining from his eyes. "…We've seen worse, like the Copa Cabana Incident. Those people were a civilization that desired the same things we do today. They wanted freedom… You call yourselves 'clergymen', but you're _far_ from being holy in any form or fashion. So, that's why…"

"…In the name of God and the future of this world…"

"…YOU WILL KNOW YOUR PLACE!" our territorial auras shine vibrantly.

Bishop Delouse, and all the Elite Clergymen, are nothing before the strength of an unbreakable friendship. We have faith in our bond; the indestructible chains of destiny that link us together… Let it burn brightly as an inextinguishable flame. Let the power of our hearts pierce the sky, as the sun and the moon!

Our power is unstoppable… The darkness, and all those that dwell in it, will fall before the power that we possess. Our strength comes from entities that have stood the test of time. The sun…and the moon… The heavenly bodies that have governed the lives of our ancestors… The holy men of the olden days spoke of them with great admiration, and reverenced them hallowed title. We are _the Eyes of the World_ – the golden morning light and the sparkling evening star! We see all…we shine above all! We are everyone's light...and we are everyone's hope!

Natalie, Stephen, Theodore, Yuvraj, John…and all the friends that we've made along the way… The Patriarchs of Infinity, the Methuselahs, the Rookie Radicals, the Former Clergymen, the Refugees, Whitney Houston, Brother Youssou N'Dour, and especially little Enrique Iglesias… Everyone, let's fight together! Let us open the door to a brighter future…as one!

_The battle for peace has reached its turning point…and it will end in our victory! I promise you that!_

* * *

><p><strong><em>(Opening Theme 2 – "Chikyuugi" by Matsuzawa Yumi)<em>**

* * *

><p><em><strong>BLOODNight Finale – ****Send Me an Angel**_

* * *

><p>Damien and I take flight upon shining wings of light. The Bishop feels our power levels rising by the second! However, he stands strong against us, and prepares himself for the first attack… I summon the power of the sun, engulfing my fists with shells of solar energy! Damien summons the power of the moon, and materializes a longsword of unbreakable silver in high grasp!<p>

"Useless…your power is useless!" the Crimson Blood Dragon expands his grand wings, and waves them forward… A tempest of hurricane-force wind flows from his flapping wings, which repels us with little effort! We're sent flying away in the Bishop's storm… He laughs at us for attempting to close in on him. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! The sun and the moon… Really, I expected more power from the both of you. How disappointing…and amusing at the same time. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

_"AAH…!" our friends are caught in the storm's furious wind._

"Oh no, they'll be killed!" we regain our posture by exciting our territorial auras, and create a metaphysical energy wall in front of us. The storm's path of destruction is cut in half, and our spectating comrades are saved from death. The Crimson Blood Dragon's eyes shine with a frightening scarlet light, and casts a wave of ionic plasma energy upon us! I prepare my fiancé for impact. "Damien, brace yourself! This may hurt a little!"

"I'm…I'm _not_ afraid, as long as I'm with all of you…" my loving boy takes my right hand, and I return the gesture by holding his with a firm grip. Damien smiles, believing in the power of our bond. "…This won't destroy us. Now, everyone, burn your existence!"

_("Okay!") the voices of our companions speak from our hearts._

The Bishop's optic wave of ionic plasma crashes into our territorial wall with ground-shaking force! However, despite the monster's efforts, our light still shines brightly… The Elite Clergyman licks his jaws, believing this to be the extent of our power.

"The sun and the moon, indeed…" snickers the Crimson Blood Dragon… But then, his confidence is brought to an end, as our auras grow to immense proportions! Bishop Delouse is psyched by the substantial amount of spectral energy before him. "…Inconcevable (Inconceivable)! How did their power grow so much…?"

_"AAAAAAAH…!" our voices light the skies with mountainous pitch. With a single pulsation of our territorial auras, we break through the Bishop's optic blast! Damien and I charge forward with trajectories of light trailing from our bodies. Our hearts resound as one; our voices decorate the air with righteous energy. "We won't give up! Bishop Delouse, your end is near…!"_

"Tais-toi, impertinente métis (Silence, impertinent half-breeds)!" the Bishop swings his large tail at us, and swats us away with a single blow!

_"AAH…!" we're sent plummeting to the earth at uncontrollable speeds._

We crash into the courtyard with ground-shattering impact! A large cloud of rubble and dust emerges from our point of collision... As the dust clears, the truth is revealed… We've been reduced to a severely injured state. Our friends are torn by the sight of our broken bodies!

"Stuart, no!" our maid of honor is brought to tears.

"Oh God, Damien!" our best man's heart is broken in half.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!" laughs the coldblooded creature of myth. Bishop Delouse begins walking towards us with tremulous stride. "Too bad, Ange du Soleil (Angel of the Sun), Ange de la Lune (Angel of the Moon)… Hmph. The Eyes of the World… Useless, useless, useless! You've bored me beyond comparison, and you will now become my next meal. I hope you enjoy the burning flames of my stomach. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

"Goddamnit, you two…GET UP!" cries the heartbroken King Henry. The Former Patriarch runs forward to save us. "I'll never forgive you if you die like this!"

"Henry, come back!" the worried Leonard chases after his lover.

"No! I won't let them do this!"

"Henry, please stop…he'll kill you!" the Bishop eyes the lovers with a glowing scarlet gaze. Leonard and Henry are frozen in place, and fall to the ground in overwhelming fear. The Former Pope is brought to laughter by the King's brash behavior. "Heh-heh-heh… Henry, you're such a fool."

"I know… I've been a fool for centuries. I guess this is my punishment."

"Get ready…he's coming…" preps the Former Pope, as the Bishop's eyes shine brightly with ionic plasma… All of a sudden, three bodies appear in front of them: Niccolò, Mary Victoria, and Jorge. "What…are you doing?"

"What we should've been doing from the start", the voice of Brother Randal alerts the lovers. They look behind them, and witness the forthcoming of their fellow radicals. Upon their arrival, the Leader of the Highwaymen helps his fallen brethren to their feet. "Let's protect the lovebirds. We can't do much, but we can shield them with our existences. Everyone, let's do it!"

The Infinity Radicals burn their existences brightly, forming a field of prismatic light… The field's bm expansion passes over our broken bodies, and repels the Bishop with mammoth-like force! The Crimson Blood Dragon is knocked off of its feet, but manages to regain composure by flapping its grand wings. The Elite Clergyman takes to the air, and releases a wave of ionic plasma from his eyes… The optic blast crashes into the Radicals' barrier, beginning a struggle of spectral muscle!

"Insensés (You Fools)…!" the Bishop increases his optic blast's spectral composition, and places a lot of pressure on our comrades' territorial barrier! The Infinity Radicals are in trouble… The barrier…it's cracking! "All of you are a bunch of mindless zombies! Rien zombies écervelés (Nothing but mindless zombies)!"

"Shit…!" swears the struggling Brother John.

"He's…too…strong!" struggles Sister Sarona.

"Is this…the power of the Elite?" thirds Grandpa Christopher.

"I'm afraid so…son…" confirms Grandpa Frederic. However, the Legendary Protagonist retains his resolve, and encourages his comrades. "…But, we can do this! We're not weak… We're much stronger than this; all of us; we're much stronger than what we are right now… Everyone, burn your existence to the core! For Infinity!"

_"For Infinity!" the Infinity Radicals' territorial energies shine with magnificent luster._

"…Don't…" even in my unconsciousness, I can feel their energies. I shed tears…knowing what they're trying to do. "…Don't… Grandpa Fred…Grandpa Chris…Uncle Al…Drew…everyone…"

"…Don't do it…" weeps my unconscious fiancé, feeling their territories burning brightly. "…Don't kill yourselves… Everyone, stop it…"

"We're sorry, lads", apologizes the Cyber-technologist.

"This is all we can do to save you", seconds the Head Mother.

"We're not strong enough to fight him head on, and we're sorry about that", thirds the Cryobiologist.

"However, we love you enough to do this…for the sake of the future", weeps the Vestal.

"This is our way of saying 'thank you'…" smiles the Legendary Protagonist.

"…Yeah, so keep your heads up, Sunny Boy, DC" weeps the Protected One.

"We promise to come back to you, mis amigos (my friends)", promises the Masked Berserker.

"We've put a lot of faith in you…because we know that you can save us all", weeps the Crusnik Lord.

"It's not every day that I say this, but…you're royalty in my heart", weeps the King of Rutherford.

"God is with you all, just as we are right now", smiles the Soft-spoken Ecclesiast.

"…Stop it…" I plead in my unconsciousness state.

"Selfish to the very end…that's what we like about you two, Stu, DC", weeps the Twins.

"Jimi…Jay…everyone, stop…" weeps my fiancé.

"I'm sorry…and I hope we can be hermanos (brothers) when the fight's over", smiles the Necromancer.

"We believe in you, the Eyes of the World", weeps the Rolling Stones.

"You are the light of hope…" smiles the Highwaymen.

"…You are the light of everyone…" seconds the Lost Boyz.

"…Everyone, stop it…please…" Damien and I struggle to awaken, in order to stop their sacrificial actions.

The existences of the Infinity Radicals shine as an immaculate white light! It grows…and grows…and grows… The Bishop finds it hard to retain his aerial posture, and grounds himself to retain his equilibrium. The voices of our comrades resound with righteous fury, as their spectral energies burn to the limit!

_"RAAAAA…!" their warcries sound throughout the European skies like a monstrous thunderstorm._

_"…Stop it…STOP IT!" we call out to them, but it's too late…the act has already been done._

"Such power…!" the Bishop is overwhelmed by the power of the Infinity Radicals. His optic beam is disrupted, before the light of their friendship crashes into his large, reptilian frame! The Crimson Blood Dragon is rocketed into a 50-foot fall to the courtyard grounds! "Damn you all! AAAHHH…!"

As the Bishop crashes into the ground, our friends…every last one of them… The Infinity Radicals collapse from burning the entirety of their existences. Without the proper life force, they're unable to continue living. The Crimson Blood Dragon rolls to its feet, turns around…and gazes upon the downfall of the Infinity Alliance… His soul is filled with frenzied mirth.

His laughter lights the evening skies of Rutherford, and spreads throughout the land, "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…!"

"…No…God, why…?" Damien awakens from unconsciousness, and struggles to stand to his feet.

"Grandpa Fred, Grandpa Chris…everyone, why…?" I push myself to my hands and knees. The Bishop stops laughing, and lowers his head to us. He observes our emotional resolve, as we crawl to our friends with the little strength we have left in our bodies. "…Fools… You're all… You're all a bunch of fools!"

"…How are we supposed to do this without you?" we try to stand, but quickly lose our balance, and fall to the ground. Damien and I manage to push ourselves back to our hands and knees. The weeping Angel of the Moon looks forward to everyone, and beholds the image…_of their bodies changing into spectral remnants_. Damien panics, and attempts to hurry to them, but loses his balance once again. I make it to his side, and help him sit up on his knees. My fiancé cries in my arms. "…What's happening to them…why are they disappearing?"

"No existence, no life…" smiles Father Andrew. The Cyber-technologist looks to us with a weak smile. "…I feel like shit. I was the one…who dragged you into this… Now, I'm a fucking mess. We all are… We burned the entirety of our power, and wound up in the dog house. Karma's a bitch…ain't it, lads?"

"Be quiet, Andrew!" laughs Mother Wendy. The beautiful Abbess looks to the sky with tearful eyes. "God's looking down at us right now…so show some respect… He's opening the door. I think he wants us…to stay there for a while… Ah, the gates of Heaven are pretty…"

"Don't talk like that, Beth!" I command with mournful tone, as tears begin falling from my eyes.

"I've been waiting for decades to actually die…" confesses Brother Heath. His fellow Methuselahs sympathize with his emotions. "…I'm a cowboy of the old west. I'm Billy the Kid… I should've been dead before the end of the 18th century, but I'm here… I really wanted…to tell…Brother Johnny 'adios' before… Before I parted from this world…for that big saloon in the sky…"

"Heath…you're…Billy the Kid?" weeps Sister Sarona.

"Yeah, Ronnie…I am. Sorry…for keeping that…a secret...everyone…"

"That's…pretty badass…Red", smiles Brother John.

"I…second that…" agrees Brother Kevin.

"Yeah…me too…" dittoes Brother Jayson, as the Methuselahs begin fading away into the afterlife.

"I don't regret a thing…" weeps Brother Randal. "…At least I get to see my wife…and my daughter… I know it's only temporary…but any moment with them… That's 'Heaven' in my book…"

"…We're not vampires, so it's only natural that we go first…" Brother Paul's spirit completely fades.

"…Stuart, Damien…win…please…" with Sister Eve's spirit fading last…the Methuselahs are no more.

"Guys…don't let our sacrifice be in vain…" pleads the Faction Leader of the Rolling Stones…as their spirits ascend into the heavens. "…Fight hard, fight strong… If you don't…you're going…to…answer to me… Take care…"

"Damien…" my fiancé crawls to his Great-uncle's fading body, and holds his right hand. The Crusnik Lord smiles upon his nephew's handsome profile. "…I almost forgot…you're an angel… At least I have a messenger…to guide me into the afterlife…for a short stay… Uncle Al loves you, Little One… Do the Crusnik race justice…and defeat that bloody bastard…"

"Uncle…Al…don't leave me…" pleads the Angel of the Moon, as the Crusnik Lord ascends into the heavens. "…No…don't go… Come back, Uncle Al… Come back…everyone, don't leave…"

"Those tears…don't suit you boys…you know", Grandpa Christopher holds his father's hand, as I crawl to them as a broken man. I attempt to touch them, but their composition's beyond unstable… I can't lay a finger on them. "…I'm sorry, Sunny Boy. Grandpa can't…move…or even touch you…"

"We're fortunate…to have you near us…my boy…" Grandpa Frederic looks over to Damien, and notices that he's holding Niccolò in these last moments. The Legendary Protagonist smiles, and looks me in my weeping eyes. "Oh, Stuart…you look so much like me… It's like…I'm saying…goodbye to myself… I can't wait to come back, so we can…play this 'football' game Chris has spoken of… Do the Von Alucard bloodline justice, my boy… We're…counting on you… "

"Don't leave…please…we need you…" my Grandfathers fade into the heavens before my eyes.

They're gone… All of our friends and loved ones are gone… The Infinity Alliance…is…it's dead… The Bishop mocks our suffering with coldhearted laughter. His monstrous voice decorates the skies with heartless elation.

* * *

><p>"Otōsan, kore wa subarashīdesu (Father, this is awesome)!" the childlike Kyonshī excites, observing our struggle at his father's side. The Count doesn't answer his son. He's frozen; Count Valdo stands with an arrogant smile, not moving a muscle. Brother Johnny shakes his father just a bit. "Otōsan, daijōbu (Father, are you okay)?"<p>

"Yes, Johannes. Father's all right."

"Why aren't you saying anything, Otōsan (Father)? You look like you're frozen stiff."

"I'm just amazed, that's all."

"Me too. Stuart-kun and Damien-chan are very strong. I like them. Otōsan (Father), when do I get to play with them? I'm starting to become _really_ bored."

"You'll be able to play with them soon enough, my boy", the Lord of the Night places his left arm around his son's shoulders. Brother Johnny cradles against his father with a child's love. Count Valdo pats his son's back, and smiles at how loving his heir has become. "With a heart like yours, I'm pretty sure they'll grow fond of you. Now, let's pay close attention to this. The climax has just occurred. Your cousins are sure to win."

"How do you figure that?"

"Their friends are gone; however, their travelling companions are still inside of them. Those old fools are much too stubborn to give up now. We're about to pay witness to an amazing display of power, you and I."

"Yay! Stuart-kun, Damien-chan…fight, fight, fight!" cheers the hyperactive Kyonshī.

Count Valdo's smile becomes venomous and sinister… His heart is set on obtaining our power for his genocidal cause. When the childlike Brother Johnny finally gains control of the night, the Count wants us to be at his side. As he observes the second round, the Lord of the Night grows fonder…of the power of the Eyes of the World. It's the very thing that could secure the Church's plans for world domination. The merciless Master Vampire strongly believes in this, and cheers us on in silence.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back at the demolished Rutherford Branch, Damien and I are faced with the most heartbreaking moment of our lives. So many peoples have died before us… It's not something that one can easily swallow. These people – our family and devoted friends – have stood by our side in the battle to unite the races. Sure, some presented themselves as enemies at the beginning, but that's all changed. These people were so very precious to us… And he… The Bishop killed them all! As God as our witness, we'll deliver devine retribution upon this wretched soul…if it's the last thing we ever do!<p>

"Beautiful…absolutely beautiful!" the Crimson Blood Dragon mocks our sadness with mountainous laughter… He doesn't realize it, yet…but Bishop Delouse has made the worst mistake of his life… Damien grabs hold of his longsword's grip, digs the point of his blade into the ground, and pushes himself to his feet… He uses his weapon as a crutch, and limps his way to my side. The Bishop ceases his laughter, and observes our tenacious behavior… I push myself to my feet, finding the strength to stand with my fiancé. Bishop Delouse smiles upon our resolve. "Oh…? Still ready to fight, are we? Or, is this the quiet before your surrender?"

We're silent… Not a word is spoken. The Bishop walks forward, and comes close to us. He lowers his large head, and snorts a gust of wind that pushes us to the ground! Damien's longsword flies out of his hand, and falls to the ground… The Elite Clergyman laughs at us for attempting to stand in our broken physical condition.

"Ha! I guess it's the quiet before the surrender, after all."

"You talk too damn much", the sound of my voice is full of life and vitality. The Crimson Blood Dragon stands up straight, and pays close attention to our actions. We, the Eyes of the World, stand to our feet with little trouble this time. Damien opens his right hand, and mentally summons his longsword using his empathic abilities. As he grabs hold of his weapon of silver, we look up to the Bishop with furious eyes. I ball my hands into tight fists, itching to dig them into the Bishop's rotten skull. "You like making people suffer. It makes you smile… It's what you live for, isn't it? You're nothing but a coldhearted murderer!"

"Hmph! You've got me memorized already? I'm touched, Ange du Soleil (Angel of the Sun)."

"Those were our precious friends!" the Angel of the Moon furiously clutches the grip of his sword with both hands. My fiancé holds his blade in front of him in an offensive front-stance. "You're pathetic… You, and all those like you, are just pathetic! Jean-Claude…you won't get away with this!"

"I like you too, Ange de la Lune (Angel of the Moon)", laughs the smug Elite Clergyman. Bishop Delouse expands his grand wings. He creates another tempest by furiously flapping his with wings… The hurricane-force winds crash into our stationary frames! The Crimson Blood Dragon laughs with vicious spirit. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Useless, useless, useless! Everything you do is…"

Our territorial auras excite, and expand to mindboggling lengths! The Bishop's storm is overpowered by our existence! The mythical dragon is subjected to its stinging brilliance! His roars of agony light the evening skies… However, his wailing is brought to a close – Damien flies forward with epic grace, and lands a bone-crushing missile dropkick to the dragon's belly!

"RAAAAA…!" the Bishop is severely injured by my fiancé's critical attack. Damien bounds from the dragon's chest, pushing him to the ground with his leg strength… Bishop Delouse plummets to the canvas in a world of pain. The assault isn't over – the Angel of the Moon concentrates his territory, and summons a pillar of destructive lunar energy from the earth's crust! The Crimson Blood Dragon is rocketed into the air by Damien's decisive attack! The light of the moon burns at his skin, sending waves of unbearable pain through his body. "I…I can't believe this… RAAAAA…!"

I appear above the Bishop's body in a flash of solar energy! Invoking the power of the sun, I bombard the airborne goliath with sunlit fists of fury! In the Bishop's mind, our attacks seems as if its stemming on for an eternity… The pain is real, and _unbelievably_ fierce. It's like a nightmare… His body's suffering the burns of Damien's moonlight, and the endless stabbing of my sunlit fists.

("The sun…and the moon…") the Crimson Blood Dragon reflects on the legend of the Eyes of the World with resentful thoughts. ("…Since the dawn of time, before the age of man, the Eyes of the World have watched the progression of humans, animals, vegetation, and technology. Man has studied them, attempting to understand the secrets of these heavenly bodies. Some worship and reverence them as gods, but they're nothing more than mere stars in the sky. However, their power is imminent…their existence is endless… Unless God himself says that their end has come, they will shine as the beacons of hope for the world… Hogwash! I have the power to defeat any legend; power that can crush the heavens with a single blow! Ange du Soleil [Angel of the Sun], Ange de la Lune [Angel of the Moon]…this charade ends here and now!")

A monstrous territorial aura of crimson light expands from the Bishop's colossal frame! Just by exciting his spectral energies, Bishop Delouse repels us with violent force… The Crimson Blood Dragon plummets to the canvas in a loss of physical strength! We, the Eyes of the World, crash into the courtyard with ground-shattering collision! After having fought so hard, and burned a large portion of his existence, the Bishop has lost a substantial amount of physical strength… Damien and I, however, are still able to stand to our feet.

My fiancé joins me at my right, and takes hold of my hand. We approach the fallen Crimson Blood Dragon together, hand-in-hand… The mythical creature rolls to its feet, and looks upon us with resentful eyes. He's still weak, but his tenacious resolve keeps him afoot.

"…The Eyes…of…the World…" snarls the Bishop with glowing crimson eyes.

"I…am the Right Eye of the Sun…" I declare with fatigued tone.

"…And…I am…the Left Eye of the Moon…" continues my fiancé, as we come to a halt before the mythological creature of darkness. "…By the providence of the Lord…delivered by the love of our friends…we stand before you as the eternal deities of the universe."

"Only God has the power to silence our light… Unless He wishes us to shine no more…we will continue to guide the people of this world to a brighter future."

"Our resolve is much stronger, and eons more just than yours. You, an Elite Clergyman, should be a holy soul. But, look at you… You're a disgrace to the cloth; any real man of God…would shake his head at the mockery you've made…of our Lord and Savior."

"Quiet, I've heard enough!" the Bishop's anger silences us, but we're not moved one bit. He's a pathetic sight… Bishop Delouse is a man who has given his last for the Count's malevolent vision. If this is the strength of the Elite, we're not impressed. If anything, we feel sorry for this man. The emotions of our companions, who have merged with our souls, resonate vibrantly… They feel the same as we do. Despite his sizable loss of power, the Crimson Blood Dragon prepares himself for his next attack. "You know nothing! You know nothing about me; my resolve; my ambitions; my dreams… Regardless of your overrated title, the Eyes of the World, you cannot see into the depths of my soul. Our cause is just; your cause is foolish! Insensé au cœur (Foolish to the core)! I… I… I will teach you not to underestimate me!"

"Why do your eyes seem so familiar, Jean-Claude?" my boy's question silences the dragon's anger. Damien approaches the Bishop with his left hand over his heart. The Elite Clergyman looks down to the Angel of the Moon with guilty expression. "That anger…those eyes… Why are they filled with so much suffering? Where have I seen them before?"

"Does it really matter, Ange de la Lune (Angel of the Moon)? I'm your enemy. Show some pride in your resolve, petit garçon (little boy)… I'm not emotionally vulnerable like a normal Clergyman. The Elite has no place for feelings, so don't try to sympathize with me. Si vous le faites, vous allez mourir (If you do, you will die)."

"The Elite aren't emotionally vulnerable, you say?" my laughter pricks at the Bishop's patience. I hold my hands up and approach the mythological creature in peace. "Don't mind me, my friend. I'm just amazed that you'd stand there and lie to us. Your _emotions_ have been on high since the start of the second round. So, it's only natural for a man of my intelligence to laugh at you."

_"How arrogant of you, Stuey", Damien snarls in a mode of offense._

"Don't fret, love. You're a man of exceptional knowledge and grace yourself. I'm just speaking directly about myself, that's all… I'll make it up to you tonight. How does that sound?"

_"Like a lot of fun…jerk", snarls the blushing Angel of the Moon._

"Enough pillow-talk!" snaps the Crimson Blood Dragon.

"The dragon loses his temper, once again", I come to a halt just steps away from the mythological creature. I look up at how tall he is compared to me… I ascend into the air upon my solar wings, and come face-to-face with the Bishop. He eyes me with confused expression. "Elite Clergymen and normal Clergymen aren't any different, Jean-Claude. The Count picked you because he 'liked' you, not because he wanted to share the world with you. Do you honestly think a man like _that_ would keep you around when your job is done? You're about to lose to us, and that's not good on your part. The question stands: What do you think Count Valdo will do to you when you arrive to his chateau in Moldavia? He's watching you right now, so you can't lie… How will you get yourself out of this tight little spot, Jean-Claude?"

"Don't speak forebodingly to me! I know he's angry on the inside, but at least I'm giving it my best effort. I'm not doing a half-assed job. Besides, I was sent her to give you a message…not to win."

Damien tilts his head with curious character, "A message, you say? What message is that, Jean-Claude?"

"There are people in the Church that are _much_ stronger than I am. Even at this level of power, you're still no match for the Lord of the Night. These are your true forms…but there's a power beyond this. So, in the end, _you're_ the ones doing your job halfway, not me. When you arrive in Romania, your adventure will begin anew. However, this time, you'll be faced with nightmares that make your past battles look like _child's_ _play_. Are you truly capable of standing up to such power…like this? Can those who are flawed overcome the flawless?"

("…Yes…we can…") the voices of our friends speak from the depths of our souls. The spirit of the Earth Master appears before us as an emerald-winged angel. He looks just like us, only of a different color. ("…This world is imperfect, fella. Everything and _everyone_ on this planet is imperfect, even the Count himself. Who wants to be without flaw? That just sounds…well…_boring_…")

"Stevie…is that you?" Damien delights. "What happened to you? You look like…like a…"

("I'm an Angel of Nature, Day-Day. Your hearts gave us a new power.")

The spirits of our friends emerge from our hearts, and stand before us with glorious presence… They're beautiful. Is this…oh my god, is this their second form?

("I…am an Angel of Time"), Raj declares, who has become an orange-colored angel.

("I…am an Angel of Vision"), John declares, who stands as a crimson-colored angel.

("I…am an Angel of Fire"), Natalie declares, gracing us as yellow-colored angel.

("I…am an Angel of Earth"), Theodore declares, standing before us as a white-colored angel.

("We don't have concrete names, but this is our second form"), our friends' spirits disappear, and reappear behind Damien in a flash of spectral energy. I descend, and land directly in front our friends. I take my rightful place at my fiancé's side. The angels place their hands on our backs, and fill us with a wave of their territories. Stephen speaks to the Crimson Blood Dragon with valiant tone. ("These boys are right about one thing – you bastards are pretty damn _pathetic_. What man can stand up and say, 'oh, hey, let's kill all the humans and take over the world', and go to bed at night in peace? Were we not human once before? Ask yourself that… Do you remember your family? Friends? Neighbors? I know I do. I used to enjoy playing with the kids in my village, and I was the most popular guy in the area. And then, in came the Count with his cryptic lines and bold strut. Took me out of the world of the living he did; didn't waste a second doing it. He did the same thing to you, but he filled you with _so_ _much_ _darkness_ that you can't see where you're going. The Elite Clergymen are vampires who've been pulled much farther from happiness than a normal Clergyman. You killed our friends, and destroyed the Infinity Alliance, all for the sake of a man that could give two shits about you. That's why we think you're pathetic, JC. It's not because we hate you… It's because we feel sorry for you, fella.")

Our companions' territorial auras burn brightly… It feels…warm. This is the full extent of their power? Words… A new set of words are coming to me, to us… A new power is awakening in our hearts. Damien and I join hands, as our territories shine brighter than the morning sun… The spirits of our companions fade back into our hearts, and become one with us… The Bishop's eyes glow with a furious crimson light.

"Sweets…let's bring our friends back", I open my eyes and gaze upon the Bishop's pathetic image.

"I was just thinking the same thing, Daddy", my fiancé opens his eyes and looks to the Bishop with a warm smile. The Crimson Blood Dragon blasts a colossal ionic wave from his eyes! Despite its composition, the Elite Clergyman's optic blast pales in comparison to the power of our bond. The image of the Infinity Radicals runs through our minds, and touches a very gentle spot in our hearts. Tears fall from our eyes, as we confess the depths of the love we have for them. "If we never loved you enough, we're sorry. Please, forgive us… Come back to us, everyone…please… We're suffering without you by our side. God gave you to us, and we want to keep you near. You're the people who should grace us at our wedding."

"So please, don't make us live another moment without you?" beautiful emotions fill my heart. I think back at how we met, where we've gone, and where our journey has led us… These people are irreplaceable. _No one_ can take their spot… Their smiling faces; we want to see them again. "I know you're all looking down on us, smiling and shedding tears with us. It's because of you that we found this form… And, it's because of you that our love grew. We don't regret having our eyes opened…because you were there with us the entire time. So, in honor of our bond, we humbly bestow upon you the same gift you gave to us… We give you…a second chance."

* * *

><p>The Count and his Heir are fascinated by the psychographic image generating from the courtyard of Infinity HQ… Brother Johnny hops forward and touches the framing of his father's pier glass. He excites and hops happily around his father. Count Valdo folds his arms, and giggles a little under his breath.<p>

"They're winning, they're winning, they're winning!" cheers the hopping vampire heir.

"Calm down, son", smiles the Lord of the Night. Brother Johnny stops hopping at his father's right side. As they watch us lift our lateral hands to the sky, the influence of our existence reaches the borders of Moldavia. Count Valdo looks to his window in a mode of shock. ("What on earth…? Is that…? Impossible! Is this the full expansion of their power? It's… By Jove! It's just a wide as my own!")

"Otōsan (Father), are you all right?" questions the Kyonshī of his dazed father. The Count calms down, and smiles. Brother Johnny cradles against the emotional Master Vampire. "I feel them, too. Their power…feels really nice, and really, really warm. Stuart-kun and Damien-chan are going to win… And, when they get here, we'll play…forever and ever and ever."

"That sounds lovely, my son. I can't wait for them to arrive as well. Those Infinity idiots… Resilient to the end they are. We're in for a grand spectacle with this final attack."

"Conde (Count) Valdo, I've arrived with the assassin", the Lord of the Night looks to his chamber door. Standing before him is the Cardinal…and Brother N'Dour's in his right arm. The Master Vampire approaches the Elite Clergyman and the Apprentice with daunting stride. "He seems to have lost his memories. Obviously, this is the work of Father Andrew and his existence of sound, Echoes. What would you like to do with him?"

"Take him to the Altar for cleansing", Count Valdo holds Brother N'Dour's chin with a gentle right hand, and lifts the boy's head a little. He sees the _mindlessness_ that has befallen the young man. "So, _this_ is the boy who fell in love with the Angel of the Moon? I haven't seen this little fellow since I _spawned_ _him_ from my existence… I've missed you, N'Dour. You'll now continue your services with the Church. If you run away from me again, I'll be forced to punish you. Is that understood?"

"…Yes…Master Valdo…" the mindless Apprentice moans.

"Otōsan (Father), can I play with the funny boy when he's done with 'the Altar thingy'?" excites the hopping vampire heir. His father looks to him with a smile, and grants his request with a nod. Brother Johnny hops merrily around the study. "Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! I have a playmate! I have a playmate! Yay-yay-yay!"

"Your son is a ball of energy, mi señor (my lord)", delights the veiled Cardinal.

"Yes, he is", agrees the loving father, as he watches his son hop towards him. Count Valdo opens his arms, and welcomes his son with into his embrace. The Kyonshī hugs his father with heart-warming joy. "Aww, that's my boy. Such a gentle young man. I'm sure N'Dour will enjoy your company. Isn't that right, N'Dour?"

"…Yes…Master Valdo…" the mindless Apprentice looks to the pier glass, and notices the grand image of the battle at Infinity HQ. He approaches the pier glass, and grasps the attention of his company. Brother N'Dour places his hands on the pier-glass frame, and sheds tears of agony…and sorrow. "…Da…mi…en… Da…mi…en…"

"Esencia, escort this young man to the Altar at once", commands the Lord of the Night. Cardinal Evandro respectfully bows to his master, and fetches the longing Brother N'Dour. The Elite Clergyman places the Apprentice over his shoulder, and carries him out of the Count's study. The Master Vampire excuses himself, and leaves his son with fatherly verse. "Johannes, I must tend to your playmate's mental state. Tell me what happens when I return. If you can't remember, I'll just rewind the psychographic image using my existence. Behave yourself while I'm gone, boy. Don't make a mess, or papa will be force to give you a spanking."

"Hai, Otōsan (Yes, Father)!" the Heir smiles to his departing father. The door to the study closes, and Brother Johnny turns his attention to the pier glass. The childlike Kyonshī hops to the mirror, and places his hands on its frame. A faint image of his past, before he was taken by his father, runs through his mind. This memory confuses him… He sees _three_ _people_ in his vision, but they're blurred out for some apparent reason. ("Who are these people in my head? _Oooh! I Boku wa konran sa kirai [I hate being confused]!_ …Oh well… I guess the image will clear up sooner or late… But, for now, I _must_ watch Stuart-kun and Damien-chan do this 'spectacle thingy' Otōsan [Father] keeps talking about… I wonder what that is. I bet it's really, _really_ pretty!")

* * *

><p>Back in the courtyard of Infinity HQ, Damien and I stand before a mountain of territorial power… The Bishop is <em>exhausting<em> his existence to obtain victory. However, at the same time, we stand empowered by the love of all the people near and dear to us; all the people of the world; the animals; the plants; even the unborn stand with us. This is the power of the peoples' hearts. Our power is limitless… Though it may not be enough to stand up to the Count, it's enough to bring an end to this emotional struggle.

"You won't defeat me…!" swears the furious Crimson Blood Dragon.

"Is that so, Jean-Claude?" I smile with unbreakable confidence.

"I am one of the Elite! Even if I burn the remainder of my existence, I won't allow you to continue on! Vive l'Eglise (Long live the Church)! Vive Comte Valdo (Long live Count Valdo)…!"

"Pathetic to the very end, I see", Damien giggles, amused by the Bishop's resolve.

"How dare you mock me! I'll see your burning corpses collapse to the ground! And then…then I will savor the taste of your charred flesh! This is the end for you! _Au revoir, Yeux du Monde (Goodbye, Eyes of the World)!_"

The Bishop increases the ethereal structure of his optic blast, and casts a devastating windstorm across the Rutherford terrain in the process! However, despite the Elite Clergyman's efforts, we're not moved from where we stand… The power of _everyone in the world _keeps us afoot. Their hearts are one with ours… Together, we can do _anything_. _We can move mountains; we can calm an oceanic tempest; we can still the wrath of a mighty cyclone._ We are the Eyes of the World… We're everyone's _hope_… We're everyone's _light_… We are the past, the present, _and_ the future. But, most of all… _Most of all…we want there to be peace amongst races_.

_"Golden sun, shine your burning light of fate…" I recite with resonant verse._

_"Silver moon, guide the blind with your gentle glow…" Damien continues with reverberating tone._

"This power…" the Bishop feels a massive increase in our spectral composition. The amount of power exhausting from our existences _is without comparison!_ A sphere of prismatic territorial energy forms above us, and grows large with every passing second. It floats above our lifted lateral hands…like the titan Atlas, who supports the heavens with his majestic fortitude. The Bishop gives into his emotions, once again, and panics. "…This is a nightmare! No matter how much my existence burns… I just can't touch them! Merde…merde, merde, merde, _MERDE_ (Damn it…damn it, damn it, damn it, _DAMN IT_)…!"

_"…Surviving the passage of time, enduring the depths of eternity…" our voices resound throughout the European skies like a mighty thunderstorm. Our sphere of prismatic territorial energy ceases its expansion, after reaching a total of 50-feet in height. The Bishop panics, realizing that this is the end of his battle."…The power you've gathered shall now become one with us. We are the sun. We are the moon. We are the Eyes of the World. Together, let us banish the darkness to the depths of oblivion. Awaken, light that pierces the ramparts of eternity!"_

The many eyes of the United Kingdom are watching us… They can see it – the sphere of rainbow light that decorates the evening sky. It's the most beautiful thing they could ever lay eyes on. It's _their_ power… It's the power of the people who've suffered at the hands of the Church for _ages_… This light will bring an end to our battle…and resurrect the lives of our fallen comrades. With these words, we grant the Infinity Radicals a second chance… We grant the world a season of peace…if only for a little while.

**_"For the sake of the future – Sunlight Nocturne: Passionate…DUET!" _**_our sphere of prismatic light is cast forth, and instantly disrupts the Bishop's optic blast! The Crimson Blood Dragon thrusts his large claws forward, and attempts to stop our attack with his physical strength. The prismatic orb crashes into his hands, and his struggle to survive begins… He struggles, and struggles, and struggles. However, no matter how hard he resists, the Bishop's defeat is at hand. Our warcries light the evening skies with righteous reverberation. "YAAAAAAH…!"_

Our ultimate technique, _Sunlight Nocturne: Passionate Duet_, overpowers the Elite Clergyman…and fuses with his gargantuan frame… His body is lit by a magnificent prismatic glow. He feels the darkness within _shredding_ to pieces. A tear falls from his right eye, as his physical composition shrinks…and changes. For the first time in centuries, the Bishop feels the power of love… He feels the power of an unbreakable bond.

("The Eyes of the World…") his body reverts back to normal, and is lowered slowly to the courtyard. As this happens, he reflects on the power that has overwhelmed him; the power that has proven to be stronger than that of the Count. ("…Transcending the pages of history, their light has overseen time immemorial and novel. Their power knows no boundary. Only God himself can silence their immaculate glow… I understand now. Perhaps we, the Church of the Red Moon, are fighting a losing battle after all… Despite my defeat, Comte [Count] Valdo, your message has been delivered successfully. I wish I could apologize to ces garçons [those boys] for causing so much trouble. But, that's not going to happen anytime soon… I know that Comte [Count] Valdo won't allow me to rest for long… I'll see them again, someday. Pour l'instant…au revoir, Ange de Soleil, Ange de la Lune [For now…goodbye, Angel of the Sun…Angel of the Moon]…")

Brother Johnny delights in what he sees in his father's pier-glass mirror! The hyperactive Heir hops around his father's study in a circle… He's so overjoyed that he's unable to stop hopping. He finally understands what his father means when he refers to something as "a grand spectacle". The childlike Kyonshī hops to the mirror, and places his hands on its framing. His corrupted heart is filled with joy… The one thing he wants most of all…is to "play" with Damien and me for all eternity.

"Now, they're one step closer to playtime with Johnny-chan!" the hopping vampire develops a sinister grin. But then, he laughs his emotions away, and begins hopping around the room once again. In his own little way, he congratulates us with youthful cheer. "Stuart-kun-yō banzai (Hurray for Stuart)! Damien-chan-yō banzai (Hurray for Damien)! Boku no itoko-yō banzai (Hurray for my cousins)! Yay-yay-yay-yay-yay!"

In Manson, Ms. Houston and her Aunt Dionne pay witness to the phenomenon that lights the evening sky… The United Kingdom is sure to rave about this for years and _years_ to come. Her little brother, Michael, runs downstairs and joins his family members. The bouncy tyke is overjoyed, and runs into the yard, attempting to touch the rainbow-lit night sky.

"Michael, come back inside", smiles the elderly aunt.

"But, Auntie Dionne, the sky's all funny looking", bounces the excited Michael.

"It's our friends…" Ms. Houston's emotional tone grasps her aunt's attention. The future administrator is crying… She feels our love more than anyone. She knows, firsthand, how strong our bond truly is. "…They won, Auntie Dionne. They defeated the enemy, but it doesn't feel like their battle's really over. They still have to defeat the Count, and this guy's power was _nowhere_ near as strong as his."

"Well, I pray that these remarkable young men and women find the nerve to do defeat the Count", excites the elderly family member. Ms. Houston and Little Michael are humored by their aunt's energy. Auntie Dionne laughs at herself for behaving so youthfully. "Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho! Silly me. I forgot I'm not as young as I used to be. Please, forgive your dear, old auntie."

"It's okay! Auntie Dionne's still very pretty!" cheers the happy little brother.

"Oh, Michael, you know just what to say to brighten an old woman's day."

"That's my brother for you", smiles the loving Ms. Houston.

"Whitney, Michael, let's keep our friends in our prayers. I pray that God keeps them safe, stills their fear, and strengthens their resolve. I may not know their faces, but I can _surely_ feel their hearts. They fight on as a family, and stand against the enemy as a righteous sword."

"Wow! Pretty words!" Michael dances merrily in a circle.

"That _was_ pretty deep, Auntie", seconds the proud Ms. Houston.

"I know these things, my dears. Friends stick by each other, no matter what. They're a family, even when their own loved ones refused them proper refuge. However, their bond is _much_ stronger than any mere friendship; this light proves that, and not a word has been spoken to me about their relationship."

"Yeah, they'll be on each other's side…forevermore…" weeps Ms. Houston.

"Because that's what friends are for…!" sings little Michael.

Michael's energy brings laughter to his little family… Michael joins his family members, and enjoys this one-in-a-lifetime wonder at their side. Ms. Houston knows that she'll see us again, someday. However, as of now, she must let us go. We've a journey ahead of us that will decide the fate of mankind. Her heart fills with joy, knowing for certain…that we'll reunite again in the near future.

* * *

><p><em>Damien and I are tired... <em>We've fought so hard… This has truly been our toughest battle to date. The Bishop has taken so much out of us…so much that we're no longer able to stand. We collapse to the ground, losing our angelic adornment in the process… Damien and I are reverted back to our normal human forms, before our bodies even touch the ground. We may be "the Eyes of the World"…but these eyes are rather tired right now.

"…Is…is it over…Stuey?" my fiancé breathes in his fatigue.

"…Looks that way…love…" I push myself to a sitting position, but instantly fall back down. We laugh at ourselves for pushing our powers to the limit; for placing ourselves in such a silly situation. "...I…can barely…even sit up… This is worthy…of a column…in the funny papers… Wouldn't you say so…Damien?"

"Yes, Stuey… It's…quite the tickling…situation…"

("Well, don't you two look a god-awful mess"), the voice of the Earth Master resonates from our hearts. Five spheres of prismatic energy emerge from our chests… The prismatic spheres float a few feet away from us, and materialize into the image of our devoted companions…in their normal forms. Damien and I delight, overjoyed to see them standing before once again. Natalie, Theodore, Stephen, Yuvraj, and John kneel next to us. John holds Damien in his arms, and allows my boy to rest his head against his shoulder. Natalie supports my upper body by allowing me to lay my head in her lap. Stephen acknowledges us with proud tone. "Just like the Twins said – stubborn to the very end you are. You lads surprised the hell out of all of us. Good job, fellas."

"You guys…weren't so bad…yourselves…" Damien smiles.

"Will…the others come back…soon?" I ask with a lethargic smile.

**_***Image Song: Changin' by Stephanie feat. Tanaka Roma***_**

("We're right here, Sunny Boy"), Grandpa Christopher's voice resonates from the northwest. We look towards the broken main building, and pay witness to the lustrous resurrection of the Infinity Alliance. The Patriarchs, the Former Clergymen, The Mother Superior, the Rookies, the Methuselahs, the Rolling Stones… They're reappearing before our very eyes… It's a miracle! As their spirits take form, they congratulate with charming verse. "We saw the whole thing. We got to watch you guys with Mom. She asked me to tell you cowboys she said 'outstanding form, and keep up the good work'."

"It sure was nice to hold _my_ _little_ _minx_ one last time", delights my Great-grandfather. Everyone smiles, knowing that Grandpa Frederic means what he's saying. He looks upon us with fatherly pride. "Now, how about we reschedule that 'football game'? You two look like you've been wrestling with a stampede of angry bulls."

"We…love you too…Grandpa Fred", I laugh with lethargic tone.

"Hey, DC, how about I show you how to work a gun?" asks the Gunslinger, on behalf of the Methuselahs.

"…I'd like that…Billy…the Kid…" Damien weeps, despite his fatigue.

"We're all very proud of you", Mother Wendy says, standing in the arms of her loving husband.

"Darien, come out and say hello", Thaddeus commands, as his existence releases a pool of golden liquid from his feet. The liquid mutates…and forms the Doppelgänger's biological composition. Darien smiles at us, and waves to us with his right hand. "I think it's more than fair if he gets to spend some time with you boys. I need a break from fighting, anyway. I'm long overdue for some quality time with my wife."

"Oh, Thad, you're such a _fresh_ little something", blushes the beautiful Abbess, filling us with laughter.

"So, are you boys looking forward to the wedding?" asks the smiling Father Andrew.

"Oh, I'm so excited…I can't wait to be there with you guys!" delights the lovely Mary Victoria.

"We can't wait…but…there's so much more…" Damien loses the battle to stay awake, and falls asleep.

"…So much more…ahead of us…" I fall into a deep sleep as well.

"Aww, they look so _cute_ when they're asleep", coos the admiring Sister Sarona.

"My nephew gets his good looks from me", proudly declares the Crusnik Lord.

_"Yeah, right, we believe that", snickers King Henry with sarcastic tone._

"Well, it's true. The men of the Crosse Family are rather handsome. I was known to be quite the lady-killer in my day. But, that was centuries ago."

"More like an eternity", teases the whimsical Brother Jayson. Uncle Alexander hisses at the sarcastic cyborg, freezing him with fear. "Whoa! Okay, it was just a joke…stay cool."

"Hmph…looks like things never change, even after death", smiles the humored Father Luis.

"But, things _can_ change here on earth…right?" Jorge questions of his little brother.

"Sí (Yes), they most definitely can. It's good to have you with us, Jorge."

"Likewise, hermanito (little brother)."

"Brotherhood rocks", cheers the Twins, as they embrace each other with a side-hug.

"Guys, we should rest up for the evening", Natalie suggests. No one can argue with that. It's been a pretty hectic day for all of us. "Brother John, Brother Kevin, please take our sleeping heroes to a soft bed. We leave for Romania in 48 hours. Sleep well everyone, for the journey ahead of us is sure to be a tough one. For Infinity."

"For Infinity", salutes the Infinity Radicals.

Pretty soon, Damien and I are resting in separates beds… Our dorm room is quiet. It's amazing that the Halfway House survived the Bishop's attack. His spirit is probably somewhere in the afterlife by now, but he's sure to return someday. The Count's most definitely not allowing a power like his to go to waste. For now, however, we need all the rest we can get. Our dreams are filled with beautiful images… Peace. Love. Happiness. Togetherness. Tenderness. We dream of the future, and where we wish to be when this is all over. We've come so far…but we still have such a _long_ way to go. Until that day comes, when the world finally sees an eternal calm...

_We'll continue to dream…we'll continue to believe._

* * *

><p><strong><em>~2 and a Half Days Later…~<em>**

"My, this evening sky's a sight to behold", Damien and I are resting in the comfort of a hotel in Bukovina. Since this was our first stop, we decided to take a rest here for the evening. There aren't any branches in this area, so we're in the clear. Right now, my fiancé and I are sitting on a canopy swing on our suite's balcony. We're cradled next to each other, enjoying the fruits of our engagement. "It kind of feels good to be away from the UK. There's a couple of memories I'd like to leave behind in our home country."

"Here-here to that, love", Damien smiles. "But, you need to remember the _good_ things, Stuey. The bad things are shorter in number compared to the good things. Now's our chance to make a lot of new, fresh and _fabulous_ memories… I've a question though, Stuey."

"What is it, Sweets?"

"I'm thinking about adopting a child. Would you like to do that soon, or after we're married?"

"Hmm…" I ponder on that for a second. An answer comes to me, and makes me smile. "…Well, since you asked nicely, I think we could get one _before_ our wedding. Problem is: Where do we start? There're several adoption agencies in Romania, but they're not very welcoming to outsiders. Gideonites are _very_ _prominent_ in these parts. I'm surprised this hotel gave us a place to rest our heads. That was…rather neighborly of them."

"The world's _multidimensional_, Stuey. We just have to learn how to accept that. There are good people, and then there are bad people. Some are even stuck somewhere in between."

"You're right about that, Sweets. Silly me. As a man of intelligence, I should've been _much_ sharper than that. There goes a couple of my 'cool points'."

"I don't want a 'cool man', Stuey", Damien looks to me with warm eyes.

"Oh really, now? What kind of 'man' do you want then, Damien?"

"The 'hot' kind…like you", our lips touch, and we engage in a tender kiss for several moments… Damien suddenly remembers something, and pulls away from me. "By the way…Stuey?"

"What is it, dear?"

"We didn't make love 2 nights ago. I didn't forget about your little _promise_. You're a naughty, naughty boy… I've a mind to give you a _spanking_ for your misconduct."

His coquettish personality brings a smile to my face, "Forgive me, Damien. I can make it up to you right now if you wish. We've got a room to ourselves; no one to bother us; no interruptions. Just you and me…and the bed… Care to give it a go, Sweets?"

"Carry me?" Damien blushes with innocent gesture.

_"Carry me?"_ I mock with high-pitch tone, making him laugh. My fiancé stands from the canopy swing. I stand as well, and quickly swoop my boy off his feet with my strong arms. My playful gesture makes Damien hoot. I then carry my boy into our hotel room… I lay Damien on our bed, and mount him with sensual bearing. Towering above him like a preying jungle cat, I engage his eyes with loving glare. My fiancé caresses my left cheek with his right hand. "Your touch was always so soft, Damien… I can't _wait_ to start a little family with you, you should know that more than anyone else. So, will it be a girl…or a boy?"

"It depends. I like all children, so it'll be hard to choose."

"I know what you mean", I smile. I lean forward just a little, and place my lips inches away from Damien's. I decide to play a sexual game with him. "Oh, crackers… Now, I'm feeling a little indecisive."

"About what, you silly boy?" Damien laughs.

"I don't know how long we should go tonight. Have any requests?"

_"Here's one – don't stop, Daddy", Damien places his hands behind my head, and pulls me closer._

With the meeting of our lips, and the birth of a passionate kiss, our love session begins… Although big guys like me lie and say "oh, I can jump hurdles in the bed with you", it never truly happens. I just enjoy making love to my boy. What's there to prove, when all's been proven from the very beginning? Love is love… Sex is temporary, but love…_is_ _eternal_. Another one of those useless facts, right? Ha! I'm so clever with words… Now, would you be kind enough to step out of the room?

_"Daddy's" got some work to do…if you know what I mean._

* * *

><p>News of our landing on the Romanian soil has reached the ears of the Master Vampire. Gathering information from a set of "watchful eyes", the Lord of the Night anticipates our arrival. From the silence of his bedroom chamber, Count Valdo watches the Moldavian countryside with dreaming expression.<p>

"Mon Seigneur (My Lord), please forgive my intrusion", the Count looks to his chamber door with a smile. Knelt before him is none other…than the Bishop of the Church. Jean-Claude has been resurrected via the Count's mystical Altar, which is kept in the deepest depths of Chateau de Nocturnus. His existence has been restored, and he's been filled with more darkness than ever before. The Elite Clergyman reverences his master with grateful tone. "Merci, Comte Valdo (Thank you, Count Valdo). I am unworthy of such kindness, and I'm more than willing to continue my services with L'Eglise de la Lune Rouge (The Church of the Red Moon)… I heard that N'Dour's one of us again. Is this true, Mon Seigneur (My Lord)?"

"Yes, it is. N'Dour's now my son's most-valued playmate… I see word travels quickly amongst our ranks."

"It was word of mouth, Mon Seigneur (My Lord)", smiles the Elite Clergyman.

"Nothing but, my friend. You old goats need to learn how to keep your mouths shut. Gentlemen don't go around gossiping like little schoolgirls. Do yourselves some good and learn some manners, will you?"

"I'll make it #1 on my 'things to do' list", giggles the Bishop. Jean-Claude looks to his master with curious eyes. "Speaking of 'things to do', how are things looking in Wallachia? I hear Katherine's band will arrive there first. Are our Wallachian forces ready for dispatch?

"Yes, they are. Be sure to remind Cardinal Evandro of Katherine's arrival? His memory isn't as well as it used to be. He needs a push every now and then."

"As you wish, Mon Seigneur (My Lord)", bows the Elite Clergyman.

"Thank you, Jean-Claude. Now, see yourself out."

"As you wish, Comte (Count) Valdo. Pour des raisons de la course (For the sake of the race)."

The Bishop's composition decomposes into a pool of lifeblood. As the Elite Clergyman slithers away, the Lord of the Night turns his attention back to the Moldavian countryside… Thoughts of the trials to come run across the Count's mind. In his heart, he knows that his days are numbered. If we were able to defeat an Elite Clergyman, and invoke a level of power exceeding that of his own, then the future of the Church of the Red Moon looks rather grim… It looks rather grim, indeed.

Brother Johnny's sound asleep in his bedroom, and Brother N'Dour's right there at his side. Having undergone the "cleansing process" of the Count's Altar, the Apprentice has become something _terrible_ on the inside. He feels the same, but his spirit's been corrupted. He's just like Brother Johnny… They're in the same boat; they're surrounded by the same ocean of despair.

"N'Dour-chan…" the Heir's warm voice alerts the corrupted Apprentice. However, despite what Brother N'Dour may've believed, Brother Johnny's still fast asleep. He's talking in the midst of slumber. His silly words confess the contents of his dreams. "…Cinnamon rolls…cream pie… Eat with…? Chocolate…milk…"

("He's dreaming about eating junk food with me?") his playmate's youthful dreams bring a smile to the suffering Apprentice's mournful profile. He's grown a little fond of Brother Johnny, and remembers him as a valued rookie of the Infinity Alliance. In his heart, Brother N'Dour knows that they'll be reunited with the rest of us. He just wonders when…and how we'll meet. Will it be good? Or…will it the otherwise? ("I'm a little afraid, now that my soul's been tainted with darkness… Damien, Stuart, Mr. Galloway, everyone… I'm sorry that I allowed myself to get caught. I'll be back with you very soon… And, hopefully, I'll be able to bring Brother Johnny with me. Just hold on. I'm sure we'll be back together sooner than we know it. For Infinity.")

* * *

><p>It's the next morning, and Natalie's sent every last one of us a text message… She claims that "we're in for a surprise". She also asked us to "pack our bags as quickly as possible" because she has "one heck of a treat" for us. I don't know <em>how<em> I should take this… Whenever Natalie says we're "in for a surprise", or anything of the sort, there's _always_ a catch to it. Oh well, friends shouldn't judge their friends, I suppose.

"Stuey, what do you think Nattie means by that text message?" asks Damien, as we exit an elevator.

"I haven't a clue", I smile, as we approach the front desk. I hand our suite's cardkey to the desk clerk, and our little stroll continues. "I wonder if it's something…big."

"Something big, you say? You sound as if you're getting a toy, Stuey."

"Well, there's _nothing_ like the purr of a finely-tuned engine. I like cars, especially the big ones. Those are all the 'toys' I'll ever need."

"Oi, wait for us!" the sound of a female's voice comes from the elevators. We turn around, and look upon the hurried forthcoming of…Mary Victoria and Father Luis. The Vestal and the Masked Berserker arrive, and stand at our side. Damien and I notice their…_trendy_ change of attire. Mary Victoria catches her breath, and apologizes for her party's lateness. "Oh, please do forgive our tardiness. I set my alarm ten minutes _past_ schedule by mistake. Silly me, and I'm supposed to be the polished record-keeper here."

"You two look…_marvelous_", Damien delights, as he examines their attire.

Mary Victoria dons a black sleeveless, skin-tight catsuit with matching bracers, and vertical lining that accentuates her…_ahem_…lady's assets. Father Luis dons his old priestly robes, which is customary of all field agents. Just like TJ, Luis's field robes are ventilated by Father Andrew's technology. Leaves a lot to the imagination, which is always good. Mary Victoria delights from hearing Damien's approval.

"Oh, I'm so glad you like it. I used to wear this catsuit during my assassination missions. Since I'm off to save the world and all, I think it's best that I dress for the occasion. Those _ugly_ Church robes weren't my style to begin with. I like showing off my figure…with a little class, of course."

"We should get going", Luis suggests in departure.

"Good form, Lu…let's do that", I agree, as we tail after the serious Masked Berserker. When my little party arrives outside…the 'shocking surprise' is revealed. "What the deuce…? Is that a…?"

"It's a luxury motorhome!" Damien delights. We feast our eyes upon an Infinity-branded, black and silver motorhome with the works. It's brand-new, polished, and magnificently built to the tee. By Jove! Where on earth did Natalie get this from? Damien runs forward and gets a closer look of the luxurious 16-seater. "Oh, wow! Is _this_ what we're going to be traveling in from now on?"

_Natalie appears out of nowhere and scares us half to death, "Surprise…!"_

We collapse to the ground, succumbing to the pressure of our agitated heartbeats… The Head Mother's _bursting_ with an abundance of energy today. But, that's nothing new. We stand and ogle Natalie with annoyed expression. She ignores our anger, and walks forward with childlike mirth.

"Sorry about that, but I'm just _so_ excited", she comes to a halt, turns around and looks to us with joyful character. We smile upon her merry personality. Natalie's never going to change, no matter what. The Head Mother pulls a cordless microphone out of her back pocket, and initiates a grand introduction. "Everyone, our work has finally paid off! The people have spoken; the masses now sound the name of 'Infinity' with pride! Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, allow me to introduce you to the _newest_ edition to the Infinity Alliance:_ our very own luxury RV, 'Midnight Train'!_"

"Oooh!", we applaud with wide-eyed expression.

"Parliament and the Royal Family donated this baby to us", Stephen aborts the motorhome, and approaches us with a proud strut. He walks behind Damien and me, and pats us on the back with fatherly gesture. The Earth Master places his arms around our shoulders, and congratulates us. "Once again, you two did something amazing. Great Britain _refused_ to overlook your efforts in Rutherford. The government pitched and bought us a better means of travel because of it. Looks like you've hit the lotto with this one, fellas."

"Maybe we should defeat _another_ Elite Clergyman", Damien jests, making everyone laugh.

Father John pokes his head out of the first window, "As if we have a choice. But, I feel you – if Parliament and the Royal Family liked us _that_ _much_, we should be handing asses out every day."

Brother Theodore pokes his head out of the second window, "Yeah, we _sure_ did show that Bishop. I wonder if they'll give each of us a _mansion_ if we defeat the Count. That'd be _major_ sweet."

Father Yuvraj pokes his head out of the third window, and sardonically critiques his comrades' commentary, "Did you two just say _'we'_? Stop biting off of the lovebirds' victory, scene queens."

"Everyone, excuse us for a second", pardons the beaming John and Theodore, before they pull their heads back into the motorhome. They walk up behind Father Yuvraj, pull him into the RV, and commences giving him a _right-good_ _beatdown_. Everyone else is frozen by their violent display of brotherhood. "Nobody asked for your stupid opinion, ya fat-nosed jerk!"

"Ouch! I was just kidding, so knock it off!" screams the agonizing Time Bender.

"You MUST suffer!" hisses the feral assailants.

_"AAH! Somebody get these morons off of me!"_

"Knock it off, you idiots!" laughs the Head Mother, before she runs into the RV to stop them.

"Yeah, settle down in there, ya bum-sucks!" seconds the Earth Master, as he joins in on the fun.

**_***Finale Ending Theme: "Heaven in the Hell" by Nana Mizuki***_**

We're tickled by our companions' kooky personalities. We can't live with them, but we _most definitely_ can't live without them. With Mary Victoria and Luis joining us, there're now _9_ _radicals_ who'll be traveling the Romanian countryside... All for the sake of defeating the Elite Clergymen, and ending the Count's reign of terror. This adventure looks to be just like the former: _full of love, togetherness, danger, passion, and revelation_. I can speak for all of us when I say this – _"I wouldn't have any other way"_.

"Looks like this journey's going to be an _entertaining_ one", smiles the Vestal, as she and Father Luis board our new motorhome. She smiles to us in departure. "It's dawn now, boys. Let's get a move on."

"Good form, Vickie", Damien smiles.

My fiancé's statement tickles me a bit, "Oi, that's my line."

"Oh, can't I borrow it this time, Stuey?" we join our lateral hands, and walk towards our destiny.

_"Of course, Damien…of course", I pardon with loving mirth._

We caught ear of Brother N'Dour's abduction from Michael and Josh, who scheduled an evening out with the young man. Everyone suspects this to be the Count's doing, which is nothing short from the truth. Now, not _only_ do we have to save Brother Johnny…we have to save _Brother_ _N'Dour_ as well. I know that our meeting won't be a pleasant one. The Lord of the Night's known to corrupt _everyone_ in his midst.

However, just like last time, we won't lower our heads. Jonathan and Joshua, Jorge, Mary Victoria, Niccolò, Leonard, and King Henry – they were once our enemies, but now they're our valued comrades… They're our _irreplaceable_ friends. So, in the end, we know that it's possible to get Johnny and N'Dour back. Until then, we will stand against the Church of the Red Moon…and continue our struggle for peace.

_The battle to bring an end to the bloodshed…begins anew…_

* * *

><p><em><strong>~Series 2 – BLOOD****Dawn~**_

Our journey has brought us to Romania: _a place of exceptional beauty with a history that's rooted in the deepest of darkness_. The Count's crusade for world domination has not only victimized Brother Johnny, but also the gentle Brother N'Dour. Old and new friends will join our fight for world peace. On the other hand, frightening nightmares and new enemies await us as _every_ _corner_.

We've come so far… We've seen so much… However, the battles ahead of us will open the gates to perdition. Next Up – the first chapter of Series 2: _This Train Don't Stop There Anymore_. We'll meet an old friend whom we haven't seen in years… But also, we'll meet a new enemy that aims to darken our day. As if our lives weren't catastrophic enough. Anyway, until next time, may peace and good fortune be with you all.

* * *

><p><em><strong>And with that, ladies and gentlemen, the first series of the BLOOD Saga is complete. I hope you've enjoyed the first book; I worked my ass off to make this, and it took me a total of... Drumroll! ... ... ... ... It took me a total of: 3 months and 11 days to complete Series 1! Phew! Talk about "a lot of hard work". Anyway, look out for Series 2: Dawn in the near future. I'm currently working on a story I've entered on "the other fiction site" called "<strong>**Corazón Mysti Force", but I'll be gathering ideas for Series 2 at the same time. That final battle against Bishop Delouse took a lot out of me... Oh well, it's done, so I'm happy now :). Comments, comments, comments, reviews, reviews, reviews. I'm looking forward to your opinions; positive or the otherwise, your info helps my writing skills. Take care and have a lovely year :D!**_


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